Mirrored
by jarienn972
Summary: Set slightly in the future after Emma & Killian marry, a fellow pirate from Killian's past stirs up trouble. Canon divergence/speculation.
1. Chapter 1

Mirrored

 _Chapter One_

For October in Maine, it was a perfect autumn day. A gentle breeze rustled the trees, sending flurries of jewel colored leaves swirling through the brilliant blue sky. It was the type of afternoon that made you want to take a leisurely stroll around town – made even better when that stroll included the perfect companion to share all of the beauty with.

Emma Swan and Killian Jones had certainly learned to take advantage of these moments. Their lives were never going to be one of calm and tranquility so it would always be necessary to embrace and enjoy the peaceful times. So far, today had been a relatively uneventful day which afforded them some time together to simply take a walk down by the harbor. To simply enjoy each other's company. To enjoy the contented feeling of still being newlyweds, having recited their vows only a few months earlier. All of the simple things that weren't always easy to do in this town.

Emma enjoyed being lost in that moment as she snuggled her head against his shoulder, the smooth black leather of his jacket so soft against her temple. While they walked hand in hand, she realized that she was still getting used to the sensation of her wedding ring intertwining with the rings he wore. It was such a new feeling for her and just the thought of it made her smile and squeeze his hand a little bit more.

"Everything alright, Love?" he wondered as her fingers tightened around his own.

"Everything is perfect," she replied. "I was just thinking about us."

"Pleasant thoughts, I hope?"

She paused, then stepped in front of him so that he could see how much her face was beaming with joy.

"Thinking about how happy I am to be your wife. And how much I'd love to spend the rest of the day in your arms, but I'll have to return to reality at some point."

"You could always reschedule your meeting with Regina," he suggested.

"I wish I could," she sighed, "but I am still the sheriff and she's still the mayor so we do have to have an official meeting every now and then to discuss this town's safety."

"Isn't your father also sort of a sheriff too? Couldn't he go in your place?"

"Not exactly. While David is a prince and is pretty good at what he does to help me out, he can't exactly discuss some of the more 'creative' options we may come up with."

"What then exactly is it that he does?" he grinned.

"Very funny," she said, his devilish smirk just too much sometimes.

"I guess we'll have to pick up where we leave off after your meeting then."

"Pick up where we left off of what?" she asked as he playfully pulled her in for a kiss. "Oh, that…," she laughed as their lips met, then suddenly, his jovial mood came to an abrupt halt as something in the distance caught his attention. "Hey – what's wrong?" she asked as he pulled away from her, staring off toward the Jolly Roger which was moored to the dock a few hundred feet ahead of them.

"I swear I just saw something move on my ship," he replied. "Or someone."

"Are you sure?"

"I know every inch of that ship and where I saw movement, it could only have been from a piece of rigging torn loose or a person. Either way, it was out of place."

"Okay, then let's go check it out. If it was a person, I feel sorry for them trying to pilfer from a pirate."

"Aye," he stated, either not getting the joke, or taking it far too seriously as he was already making his way toward the ship with determined strides. When he did reach the gangway, he froze and stood there just listening for a few seconds. Without saying a word, he pointed to the hatch leading below the deck, toward the Captain's quarters. Emma instinctively drew her gun at the thought of an uninvited guest aboard. Knowing the layout of the ship best, Killian ascended the gangway first moving slowly and stealthily so as not to alert whomever was below. Emma followed each of his footsteps since he knew precisely which boards might squeak or echo. He also knew that while the sound he heard had originated in the Captain's quarters, he could catch his unwelcome guest off guard by entering from the cargo hold instead.

Pushing aside a centuries old rum barrel, Killian removed what appeared to be a three foot by three foot wooden panel from the bulkhead, revealing a small crawl space. An old smuggling hold, Emma figured, but she wasn't about to ask now as he lowered himself to his knees and headed inside, making his way across to the far side in the blackness where he felt around for the second panel. Locating it, he cautiously popped it loose to open the rest of the passageway into the suite where he'd spent a great deal of his life.

The open panel was concealed by a rack of rolled maps and star charts, but he was still able to get his first glimpse of the intruder – a figure of average height dressed in black denim with their head hidden beneath the dark hood of a sweatshirt. Even from this distance, he was quite certain that the figure was a woman and while she was preoccupied with attempting to pick the lock of his wall safe, he crept out of the crawl space, silently approaching her.

At least he thought he'd been silent.

As he sprang forward to surprise his mystery guest, she swung an elbow backward into his abdomen, momentarily knocking the wind out of him and without a doubt - pissing him off. The woman in black tried to sprint for the hatch, but he caught her ankle and yanked her back. She hit the deck hard and came up kicking, but this time he was ready for her retaliation and swiftly pinned her shoulders to the floor, pressing the cold steel point of his hook to her exposed neck.

"Unless you'd like to find out just how sharp this hook might be, I suggest you tell me who you are and what the hell you're doing on my ship," he stated gruffly as Emma emerged from the crawl space with her fists coiled and ready to unleash a blast at the intruder's back if she felt Killian was threatened. He yanked back the would be theif's hood to reveal a mane of long, raven black hair as the woman turned her head toward him. Even before he saw her profile, he recognized her voice.

"Hello, Hook," she growled, none too happy to have been caught. "Long time since we last parted..."

"Sinclair…," Killian muttered, his response was clearly more one of disgust than just acknowledgement.

"You two know each other?" Emma demanded, unsure of whether or not she should lower her defensive posture.

"Aye," Killian replied, releasing his hold on the now identified visitor. "Emma, meet Devereaux Sinclair."

"You know, the word 'Captain' should be in there somewhere," Devereaux responded, pushing herself up off of the deck, deep hazel eyes flashing angrily as she stared at her old rival and his blonde companion whom Devereaux was certain could hold her own in a skirmish.

"She's a pirate?" Emma asked, still not ready to lower her guard until all of her questions were answered.

"Yes, a pirate - and a damned good one at that!" Devereaux snapped back. "Now that we've established who I am, just who might you be?"

"Not that it happens to be any of your business, Sinclair, but she happens to be my wife," Killian replied.

"Your wife? Never pegged you for the marrying type," Devereaux laughed as her gaze shifted to Emma, her eyes sizing up Killian's choice of woman to finally settle down with.

"How about you answer the question about what you were doing here on the ship?" Emma demanded.

"She's certainly got fire. Is she always this forward?" Devereaux taunted, directing her question to Killian and now ignoring Emma who was growing weary of this crap.

"Considering that I'm the sheriff of this town, unless you want to be arrested for trespassing or breaking and entering, you had better have a damned good answer!" Emma shouted, but Devereaux merely shook her head and grinned slyly at Killian.

"You married the sheriff?" she wondered, smirking at the mere implications the relationship implied. "This just keeps getting more interesting by the moment…"

Killian was getting aggravated himself and found himself fighting back the urge to punch his fellow pirate in the face - preferably with his hook.

"I still haven't heard an answer," Emma pressed.

"Answer the bloody question, Sinclair," Killian growled, letting irritation get the better of him.

"You really want to hit me, don't you?" Devereaux teased. "You can't hit a lady though, can you?"

"You're hardly a lady," was his response, but he kept his temper restrained.

"Back in the day, you'd have already swung. The infamous Captain Hook has gone soft, hasn't he? Maybe looking for you was a bad idea," Devereaux said.

"Why would you be looking for me? I haven't seen you in nearly half a century and considering the last time we saw each other, I guess I hoped you'd be long dead."

"Could say the same for you," Devereaux replied. "But after my ship got blown off course in a storm and ended up in this foreign harbor, one can only imagine my surprise when I saw the Jolly Roger anchored here. My curiosity got the best of me when I decided to see who she belonged to now."

"Well, as you can see, she's still very much mine. And I can certainly see that even after all of these years, you haven't changed after I catch you trying to break into my safe."

"You know what they say about old habits…," Devereaux said. "So, are you going to have your lovely wife arrest me?"

"Just get off my ship now and I'll forget you were ever here."

"Are you sure you don't want her arrested?" Emma asked, really wanting to slap the handcuffs on the smug pirate. Killian shook his head. He just wanted this bad memory from his past gone.

"Well, a girl knows when she's not wanted," Devereaux said. "See you around, Hook." With a coy wink at him, she scurried up the stairs and disappeared. He listened to every one of her footsteps as she crossed the deck above them, then descended the gangplank.

"You two must have some serious history," Emma sighed, finally relaxing a bit as she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets.

"Not a pleasant history," he replied, still visibly annoyed at the entire situation.

"Were you two…?" Emma wanted to ask if they'd been lovers, but he didn't let her finish the question.

"You know damned well that I was a pirate, not a monk. I have a lot of regrets from the years I spent in that life and she was definitely one of them."

"You've never mentioned her before so I know she didn't break your heart."

"No, we were never that close. She just can't be trusted."

Following behind him as he slowly made his way up the stairs to return topside, Emma's keen eye caught a glimpse of an object that seemed out of place. It was round, about three inches in diameter and had a shiny bronze case. It had been partially hidden by the shadows at the base of the steps, but she stooped to retrieve it, realizing it looked like a woman's mirrored compact.

The case was covered in a lovely filigree design that appeared to have been painstakingly engraved by hand and was likely several centuries old. As she emerged on the upper deck, she held it up into the sunlight to get a better view.

"Killian – any idea what this is?" she queried as she admired the intricate designs in the light. He turned around to see the object in her hand, but didn't recognize it.

"Never seen that before, Love."

"Wonder if your friend dropped it?" she wondered, noticing that it was hinged. "It looks like a really old mirrored compact." Her hunch proved correct as her thumbnail found the tiny button that released the latch. The compact unfolded to reveal two small mirrors, one on each side and one of which had a tiny chip missing.

"Not exactly Devereaux's style. Probably something she stole."

"Well, I'll hang on to it for her," Emma said as she snapped the compact closed and tucked it into a pocket of her jacket. "She can come and claim it if it's hers. I've got to get going though or I'm going to be late. Meet me at the station later?"

He nodded in reply, but she could tell that he was still distracted by Devereaux Sinclair's unexpected visit. His eyes were still scanning the vicinity, making sure that she was gone.

"I'll see you later," Emma stated, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before heading back ashore.

So much for their idyllic afternoon.


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter_ _Two_

 _Neverland_ _–_ _Decades_ _Earlier_

"Ahoy!"

It was the greeting that every seafarer knew. A mariner's hello used by the lowliest deckhand to the loftiest admiral. Such a common expression in his vernacular but one the infamous pirate Captain Hook hadn't expected to hear today – most certainly not one he would have imagined to hear come from a female voice in this cursed land. After nearly a century spent here in Neverland, the rare sound of a woman's voice was generally a bad omen, typically meaning an unwelcome encounter with a mermaid or a siren was about to befall them. Pan and his Lost Boys had little use for women, but Hook's ears had not deceived him as the voice called out again.

"Ahoy, fellow mariners!"

He turned, glancing across the bow as the silhouette of another ship emerged from the evening fog. Even without his spyglass, he could tell that there were several figures on the deck and the one manning the helm was dressed head to toe in black with an old fashioned tri-corner hat atop a head full of wild dark tresses. As he watched with admiration, she expertly steered her ship in alongside the Jolly Roger.

"Ahoy, milady. Might my crew be of assistance?" Hook shouted back. "You appear to be quite out of place here."

"Indeed," the woman replied. "Permission to come aboard?"

"Granted," he replied, gesturing for his crew to prepare for visitors. It had been quite a while since they'd had a lady aboard and pirates or not, he was going to make sure they were gentlemen.

Awaiting his guests to be aided up the rope ladder from their rowboat, Hook stood center deck, knowingly striking an imposing figure in black leather with his cutlass ready at his hip. He wanted to make a daunting impression on his counterpart as she took her first step over the railing and onto the deck of his ship.

"Welcome to the Jolly Roger, Love," he began his introduction with a wave of his hook in a mock flourish. "Captain Hook at your service."

His guest tugged off her hat and as she made a little bow before him, she scrutinized every inch of him – her eyes inevitably drawn to the steel hook that capped his left arm.

"Your reputation precedes you, Captain," she smiled. "Allow me to introduce myself – Captain Devereaux Sinclair of the Fair Siren. This is my first mate, Elena," she continued, motioning toward the tall brunette who had accompanied her. "Thank you for allowing us aboard your vessel."

"It appears you ladies are rather lost," Hook said, his own eyes taking in Devereaux's appearance. Like himself, she clearly had a preference for black leather – everything about her as dark and unkempt as her raven hair. By the looks of things, they'd encountered some rough seas.

"Quite," she responded. "My ship got drawn into a whirlpool and somehow, transported to this land that isn't on any of my charts."

"You won't find Neverland on any standard charts or maps," he told her, taking note of the disbelief on her face.

"Neverland? You're telling me that my ship was transported by some magic to a place that doesn't exist?"

"Oh, Neverland definitely exists and you've sailed right into the heart of it. I wouldn't expect a warm welcome though. Pan and his boys don't really have much use for ladies like you."

"You and your crew certainly don't look like boys. What are you doing here?"

"We've been trapped here for decades, running errands for Pan just to stay alive. I don't see him being as welcoming to you."

"If they're just boys, why should we fear them?"

"They're hardly just boys. Demons would be more like it. And they already know you're here so I suggest you be prepared. You were brought here in error and Pan will be eager to rectify that."

"Rectify?"

"As I said, Pan doesn't have any use for women. Women are the one thing that can turn boys into men and in this land, he won't allow that to happen."

"What about those amongst you who are already men? Will you help us? I'm sure we could find a suitable exchange for your assistance?"

Despite the primal urges that were pulling at him, Hook certainly recognized the danger. He wouldn't put himself or his crew at risk for a ship full of women simply for a lustful impulse.

"I'm not making any promises," he replied. "We'll see what Pan wants to do. Perhaps he'll just choose to send you back."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Well, that would be your problem, not mine," Hook smirked, an almost evil glint reflected in his icy blue eyes.

"Captain! Lost Boys approaching starboard!" one of his crew shouted as they spotted the small rowboat materializing out of the mist with two hooded figures aboard.

"It appears that you're about to find out what Pan has planned for you," Hook stated.

"How would he know we were here already? My ship only came through the storm hours ago."

"Trust me, Sinclair, Pan knows everything. The moment you arrived, he was already plotting how to rid himself of you."

"By the sound of things, getting out of this land quickly would be a blessing."

"Then I guess you had better hope he only plans to send you back to your realm. He could always decide to kill you all."

"Such an encouraging statement, my dear Captain Hook," she said as they watched the rowboat move in close to the starboard hull.

"Captain Jones," one of the boys shouted, intentionally using Hook's real name out of pure spite. "Pan's not happy that you're harboring the women."

"Harboring?" Hook shouted back. "Conversing perhaps, but certainly not harboring. I've only just made their acquaintance."

"Then say your farewells and escort them to the Mermaid lagoon."

"Mermaid lagoon? What purpose would it serve to lead them there? I prefer to stay clear of those waters."

"Pan will allow a portal to be opened to send them back where they belong," the boy replied.

"I guess I've gotten my answer," Devereaux said in a whisper.

"Don't get too excited yet," Hook replied in a hushed voice. "It could be a trick. Mermaid lagoon is a treacherous place."

"I'm quite familiar with the mermaid legends, but if it's a chance at a way back to our land, I'll take it."

"Lead the women's ship to the lagoon and into the portal, or you can face Pan yourself, Captain."

"We'll provide the escort," Hook responded. "When will the portal be opened?"

"As soon as the mist clears," the boy stated. "I suggest you don't waste time."

With that statement, the boys rowed back into the fog and vanished while Hook turned his attentions back to the becoming Captain Sinclair.

"Return to your ship and prepare to follow. Stick close to our stern and we'll lead you into the portal. It'll be a very bumpy ride."

"Worse than being sucked into a whirlpool?"

"Aye – because this time you'll be sailing into it intentionally. There's no way of knowing where it will drop us either. Make sure your crew is prepared."

"Understood. I gather we'll see you again on the other side then." He wanted to say that it was more likely that they'd never be seen again, but he kept his mouth shut. At least this gave his own crew a way out as well – and maybe this time, it would be for good.

 _Storybrooke_ _–_ _Present_ _Day_

Even after all of these years, Regina's black and white marble office still felt chillingly austere. While it may have at one time suited the Evil Queen, it now seemed an ironic choice for Regina's personality – someone who lived her life mired in various shades of gray. Maybe someday she'd decide to redecorate, but until then, it just seemed a bit too much.

"Emma, are you even listening to me?"

Regina's question was an honest one. Emma hadn't even realized that her mind had drifted and now, she couldn't even recall what the subject of their conversation had been.

"I'm sorry," Emma sighed. "Just been a bit distracted this afternoon. Wasn't expecting to encounter someone from Killian's past earlier."

"Someone new?"

"Yeah. I've never seen her before. She claims her ship was blown off course in a storm and she ended up in our harbor, but I'm not buying it."

"Her ship? Another pirate?" Regina wasn't thrilled at that prospect. Killian might be reformed but this one likely wasn't.

"Isn't the town still cloaked? How would she have accidentally found her way into our harbor?"

"The magic that hides the town from outsiders could be weakening, but I agree, her story doesn't make much sense. Was she alone?"

"As far as I know. We caught her trying to break into Killian's safe on the Jolly Roger. She claimed she was just looking for him after recognizing the ship, but I know that look she had when she got caught."

"She was looking for something," Regina stated.

"Exactly. And I think she dropped this," Emma said as she retrieved the mirror from her jacket which was draped over the back of an armchair. "Killian didn't recognize it. Have you ever seen anything like it?"

Emma placed the bronze compact atop Regina's desk and watched as Regina's eyes lit up when her fingers came in contact with the etched surface.

"I think this is a looking glass," Regina stated, lifting the object to get a better view of it.

"A looking glass? Isn't that just a fancy word for mirror?"

"Not exactly. A mirror simply reflects what is in front of it. A looking glass can function similar to a crystal ball, in the right hands, of course."

"So this thing could be magical – like Sidney, your magic mirror?"

"Yes, it could, but not like my mirror. It was enchanted. This is a different type of magic." Regina studied the intricacies of the design before flipping it open. "If that pirate woman did drop it, you can bet that she'll want it back. This one looks like it came straight from Wonderland, although it would be better if it had the handle."

"They're supposed to have a handle?"

"This one is," Regina replied, pointing to the tiny matching holes on either side of the compact. "It would have attached here – probably with a U-shaped cradle atop the handle."

"I didn't see anything like that onboard the ship this afternoon. Maybe she still has it, or maybe that's what she was looking for?"

"I don't know, but I'd definitely put this under lock and key. If it's real, it'll be sought after by more than just our pirate friend."

"For now, I'll lock it up in the evidence room at the station," Emma said as Regina handed it back to her. "It's probably stolen to begin with."

As the compact touched her hand, Emma felt a sudden chill run down her spine, momentarily freezing her in place.

"Emma? You okay?"

"That was really weird," she said as she tucked the compact back into her pocket again.

"You look as though you just saw a ghost," Regina said.

"It was just a strange feeling. A little bit ominous."

"In what way?"

"Like a warning," Emma stated. "I can't explain it any other way." She decided to shake it off though – not about to be spooked by the possibility of a magic mirror compact.

* * *

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Killian figured it was a little after six o'clock. He hadn't yet heard anything from Emma so it was quite likely that she and Regina were still arguing about something. Finally deciding just to walk down to the Sheriff's station to wait, he was reminded that with Emma, nearly everything involved waiting.

Good thing she was worth it.

At least one of the perks of being married to the sheriff was that he wouldn't have to wait outside as the evening chill set in. Not that he couldn't have gotten inside anyway, it just felt so much more official to have his own key. Who would ever have thought that pirate Captain Hook would have been entrusted with a key to the sheriff's own office?

As he approached the main entrance, it was obvious that Emma wasn't there yet as the door was locked and only the emergency lights were on inside. He strolled around the alley to the back entrance and immediately, his senses told him something wasn't quite right. While there were no obvious signs of a break in, too many years spent on the other side of the law had made him very adept at recognizing a lock that had been tampered with and a quick turn of the handle confirmed his suspicions. The door was unlocked and swung open with minimal effort. Killian tensed up and suddenly felt himself regretting that he hadn't brought along his sword. He also knew that he should really wait for Emma, but where's the adventure in that? At least he knew he'd be potentially encountering someone without magic. Why pick a lock when you could open it with a thought or a flick of your wrist?

He entered the hallway and cautiously made his way past the storage room toward Emma's office. Faint scraping sounds alerted him that he wasn't alone and for a moment, he contemplated trying to call Emma on the cell phone that she insisted he carry, but if she didn't answer, he'd be on his own anyway. He was going to confront this intruder himself. He had the element of surprise and a very sharp hook on his side. What could possibly go wrong?

As he inched closer, it was obvious that the sounds were coming from Emma's office and he could have sworn he heard what sounded like a desk drawer being slid open or closed. Someone certainly had a lot of bravado to not only break into a sheriff station, but to rummage through the sheriff's own office and desk? There was a degree of insanity to that.

A shadow figure appearing against the back wall of the office gave him an idea of where the person was positioned. He kept his back to the wall, trying to stay out of the light as the side entrance to the office was now only an arm's length away. He could now see the figure's profile and it looked very familiar.

A little too familiar.

"Maybe I should have had you arrested earlier today, Sinclair," he stated as he reached over to the wall switches and flipped on the overhead lights, startling her. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Angry and embarrassed to have been caught twice in one day, Devereaux turned slowly to face Killian.

"I must really be losing my touch," she sighed, slamming closed the drawer that she'd been searching.

"You left tool marks behind like an amateur," he stated, letting her know how he'd been aware that she picked the lock.

"I'm a little rusty," she shrugged. "It's been a few years."

"What are you doing breaking into the Sheriff's office?"

"You mean your wife's office?" she teased. "I was looking for something of mine that she took."

"What is it that you think she took from you?"

"My mirror. I saw it in her hand when you came out onto the deck of your ship earlier today. I dropped it when you tackled me and I want it back."

"You mean that little bronze compact? Who did you steal that from?"

"Yes – that little bronze compact. I figured she might have brought it here. Where is it?"

"Sorry, love," he replied. "I have no idea where Emma might have put it. You'll have to ask her."

"And I most definitely will. I need it back."

"What exactly is so important about a little mirror in a metal case? Is it as important as the objects you tried to steal from me decades ago? The ones that you tried to drug me to get your hands on?"

"You have no idea. You didn't know what you had back then and you have no idea what your wife is holding on to right now!"

"Then enlighten me," he insisted.

"Wish I could," she said as she backed away from the desk. Killian stepped past the glass partition into the office, still waiting for Devereaux to give him a straight answer.

"You're hiding something," he said as he stared directly into her deep hazel eyes. "I've known for a long time that you aren't to be trusted. You were trying to break into my safe this afternoon and now, you're looking for something here. There's more to this than just a mirror. What is this really about?"

"That's my business, not yours," she stated, shoving her hands into the pockets of her black denim jacket. It was a defensive pose and he recognized it, just not in time to prevent her next move.

Her right hand suddenly flew out of the pocket holding a tiny glass bottle filled with some sort of plum colored powder. Before he had a chance to react, she flung the bottle's contents toward his face, enveloping him in a purple cloud as she backed away.

"What the…?" his voice trailed off as the cloud of powdery dust filled the office, instantly assaulting all of his senses. It burned his eyes, then his nose and throat as he inhaled. Suddenly it was sucking the air out of his lungs – suffocating him.

"Sorry, Hook," she said as she backed her way out of the office through the main door into the station's main squad room. "You may have forgotten how to be a pirate, but I haven't. Tell your wife that if she wants the antidote, I want my mirror! She can come find me, but she'd best make it quick. Your time is limited, I'm afraid."

"What is this?" he struggled to get the words out as his knees buckled and he found himself forced to use Emma's desk for support.

"Widowsbane. I'm sure you're familiar with it. Nothing personal."

Devereaux grinned at him as she darted down the hallway toward the back door. Poisoning him hadn't really been part of her plan, but now she had leverage to make Emma give her back the compact.

Clinging to the desk, Killian could only watch her disappear. He was quite familiar with widowsbane and knew he had to get help – and quickly. He fumbled through his jacket pocket searching for his phone, but as his strength waned, his hand was trembling too much to get a grip on the tiny device. It fell from his grasp and clattered to the floor, sliding across the tile and ending up in the hallway about ten feet away. He tried to muster the strength to crawl toward it and retrieve it, but couldn't, falling onto the cold tile and hoping that Emma was already on her way there. If he made it through this, there was definitely going to be an ass-chewing in his future.


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter Three_

Her gaze drifting to the clock on the wall, Emma realized how late it was getting – nearly 6:30 and she had promised to meet Killian at the station. The whole discussion of the mysterious looking glass or whatever the hell it was already had her on edge, but she kept being nagged by an uneasy feeling that something was really out of the ordinary.

"It's getting awfully late," Regina stated having seen Emma's eyes being drawn to the clock. "We should probably call it a night. Not going to solve the mystery of that thing tonight anyway."

"No, probably not," Emma sighed. "I'll bet Killian's already waiting for me too." She dug for her phone from her jacket pocket as she retrieved it from the back of the chair, half expecting to find a notification of a message from her often impatient husband, but there were none. She thumbed through her speed dial list to locate his number and dialed it to find out where he was, but after ringing several times, it went to voicemail. She didn't bother to leave a message, but the confused expression on her face caught Regina's attention.

"What's wrong?" Regina asked.

"Probably nothing. I just figured that if he was already waiting at the station, he would have answered his phone."

"There's more to it than that," Regina pressed. "I've seen that look on your face before. What's really going on?"

Emma sighed as she tugged her jacket on and as she slipped her hands into her pockets, her fingertips traced the surface of the compact.

"Something just doesn't feel right to me. I've had a really uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach since we were talking about this looking glass thing." Producing it from her pocket, she pressed the button to flip it open and for a moment, stared at her reflection in the top mirror. She really didn't think anything of it as she viewed her own image, but suddenly, a different image flashed on the lower mirror and it rattled her so starkly that she tossed the entire compact onto Regina's desktop.

"What on earth are you doing?" Regina wondered, picking up the compact and snapping it closed.

"The image on one of the mirrors changed for a second. It wasn't my face…"

"What do you mean it wasn't your face? What did you see?"

"The top reflection was me, but the bottom one wasn't. I swear I saw an image of Killian and got the most disturbing sensation that he was in trouble."

"What? Do you two have telekinetic powers now? That isn't usually how these looking glasses work…unless this one is special? They don't normally give feelings – just images." Regina placed the compact back into Emma's hand then then stepped to her side so that they would both be able to see any images the compact might show them. "Open it again. Let's see if the same image comes up again and if you experience the same emotion."

Reluctantly, Emma reopened the compact and gazed into it once again, seeing the reflection of her own face in the upper mirror and as before, there was a fuzzy image on the lower mirror and it was definitely Killian. Peering over Emma's shoulder, Regina was able to see it as well and while the image wasn't very clear, they could both see that he was on his knees, hanging on to what appeared to be a desk.

"It is like looking into a crystal ball," Regina exclaimed, truly impressed that the looking glass was actually real. "It's fuzzy, but it's trying to tell us something."

"I still get that same ominous feeling from it and that looks like my office," Emma said as the blurry manifestation vanished and she found herself gazing at her own visage once more.

"And Killian was supposed to meet you at the station?"

"Yes," Emma replied.

"Then let's start there," Regina stated and with a wave of her hand and a flourish of purple smoke, she transported them directly into the center of the Sheriff's station. As they materialized in front of Emma's office, they saw that all of the lights were on, but there was an eerie quiet. Unsure of what they might encounter, Emma drew her weapon and her eyes darted back and forth across the room, taking everything in and noting anything that might be out of place. At first, nothing really seemed out of order, until she glanced past her office toward the hall that led to the rear entrance out to the alley.

A cell phone lay face down on the hallway floor. She pointed to it to alert Regina, who stood ready to release a fireball if necessary, but then a muffled sound from her office caught their attention – something scraping against metal? Not sensing any immediate danger, she decided to call out.

"Killian?"

The sound of her voice was a welcome relief as Killian tried to push himself up so that Emma would be able to see him. Both he and her office were still covered in the purplish pollen and with the fire burning in his throat, he was barely able to squeak out her name.

"Emma?" He reached up, grasping onto the desktop for support. "Here."

Realizing where he was and knowing from the shakiness of his voice that he was in pain, she rushed straight ahead toward her office with Regina right on her heels. Emma saw him on the floor, his hand clinging tightly to her desk, but as she extended her hand to help him up, Regina barked out a warning that led her to instantly freeze.

"Emma – stop! Don't touch him!" Regina shouted.

"What?!" Emma exclaimed, not knowing what Regina had spotted that had her so concerned as she hadn't yet noticed the purplish pollen dust that was covering everything in her office, including Killian's skin and clothing.

"Take a step back, out of the office and whatever you do, don't touch him," Regina repeated sternly.

"Why can't I touch him?" Emma wondered. "He's hurt. He needs our help."

"I know," Regina replied as Emma stared into Killian's eyes – both of them caught in a gaze of confusion and concern. Regina had seen the dusting of purple pollen atop Emma's desk and when Killian started coughing, the swirling particles confirmed her suspicion. "He's been poisoned."

"What?!" Emma repeated, her head snapping back toward Regina. There was no way to hide the shock and fear on her face.

"Hold on," Regina said, conjuring up a little magic cyclone that as it spun, drew all of the toxic pollen into its core and then with a flick of her wrist, the cyclone was dispatched out into the hallway in a burst of flames. "Now it's safe."

"What the hell was that stuff?" Emma demanded as she stepped back into her office.

"Pollen from the widowsbane plant. Believe me, it's quite aptly named. It's a rather effective poison and I should know since I've used it myself on occasion."

"And that's supposed to make me feel better about it?" Emma asked as she knelt beside Killian who hadn't yet released his grip on her desk as he fought to stay upright. She put an arm around his shoulders to steady him. "What happened?"

"Sinclair," he replied. "She came here looking for that mirror."

"Now that I know what it actually is, I'm not surprised," Emma said.

"She said to tell you that she'd trade the antidote for it," he explained.

"Regina, you obviously are the expert on this stuff. Is there actually an antidote? And just so I know, what exactly does this poison do?"

"It's a slow moving poison, one that is mostly immune to magic but yes, there is an antidote. I can make it, but it will take a while for me to gather all of the ingredients I'll need. Right now, we need to get him to the hospital." Emma started to reach for the phone to call for an ambulance, but again, Regina stopped her. "We don't have time for that. Magic's faster."

 _Enchanted Forest Harbor – A few weeks after Neverland_

After a bustling day of commerce, the dock was now a quiet place at this hour. Only a few ships remained in the harbor, most of which were prepping to leave at dawn. While a few sailors remained to tend to their vessels, the majority were off in the nearby town – most of them likely at the tavern while others would be found at the brothel but all of that was perfectly fine with Devereaux Sinclair. She'd intentionally anchored her ship way offshore, not wanting to draw unneeded attention. She'd spent the afternoon and evening surveying the plethora of cargo that was being unloaded and reloaded from all of the ships in trade. She was tracing one particular shipment – a crate of treasures from a distant realm that was marked with an unusual intricate seal. She'd followed it from ship to ship until she'd watched it being loaded onto a familiar vessel.

One belonging to the nefarious Captain Hook.

Since her crew had been escorted from Neverland by the Jolly Roger, Devereaux had done her best to keep her fellow captain in her good graces. He'd certainly proven to be an interesting distraction – charming, witty and more than a little devious, but tonight, it was her turn to keep him distracted long enough to get a look inside that crate.

As nightfall descended, she had hoped that he would accompany his crew into town, but she never saw him disembark the ship. It was going to make her task a bit more challenging, but she was up for it. She'd anticipated that she might need to utilize her feminine wiles and had dressed for the occasion, displaying a generous portion of her cleavage beneath a black leather corset. She also made certain that her skirt showed just enough leg flashing through a deliberate tear up the side. She was never going to be accused of showing up unprepared.

She stayed concealed in the shadows until she spied Hook on deck, giving out orders to the two crew members who had just brought her desired crate on board. Surveying its contents, she noticed him taking out a few objects that piqued her interest. She could see that he held onto a few items and ordered the rest sent to the cargo hold. The shape of one object in his hand drew her attention but she couldn't quite make it out from this distance. Time to put her plan into action.

She lingered for a few minutes until she was certain that Hook had returned to his quarters, then retrieved a jug of ale that she'd lifted from a merchant earlier that day and sauntered toward the Jolly Roger. One of his deckhands recognized her as she approached.

"Evening, Captain Sinclair," he shouted.

"Evening, mate. Is your captain aboard?"

"He's in his quarters. Would you like me to fetch him?"

"Not necessary," Devereaux said, ascending the gangway. "I've got a surprise for him. I know my way."

"Captain's not keen on surprises, milady," the deckhand warned as she invited herself aboard, swinging the jug of ale.

"He'll enjoy this one," she smiled, crossing the deck and making her way toward the hatch that led to the Captain's quarters. "You've got a lady on board, Hook. You'd better be decent," she shouted as she descended the steps into his stateroom.

"Since when are you a lady, Sinclair?" he asked as she came into his view. "And since this is my ship, the state of my being is hardly your concern." Sitting at his private table, he had no intention to bother getting up for her. She was interrupting his work as he inventoried some of the better trinkets his crew had procured and he wasn't interested in her dalliances.

"I come bearing gifts. Heard you were casting off at dawn. Brought you some of the finest ale in the land – at least the finest that I could pilfer."

"And what occasion would we be celebrating?" he wondered, still more annoyed than intrigued. "Finally getting out of each other's way perhaps?"

"Sounds like a perfectly good celebration to me," she replied, plopping the jug atop his table and now getting a better look at the objects he'd been inspecting. One definitely caught her eye – a cylindrical bronze metal object that was about the length of her hand and had a half moon shaped opening at one end. The exterior of the object appeared to be covered in the same intricate design as the crate's seal, but before she could get a closer look, he scooped everything up in his hand and stood.

"Let me get these out of the way," he stated, knowing the look that he'd just seen in her eyes. Taking a few steps across his stateroom, he tossed the treasures into his open safe, then closed the door and locked it. Despite her disappointment in not getting to touch that lovely bronze item, Devereaux pulled two pewter goblets off of the shelf beside his table and set them atop it to fill them. This was going to take a bit more work than she'd originally thought, so while his back was still turned, she quickly switched to Plan B, lifting up the jewel atop of the ring she wore on her left pinky finger to reveal a secret compartment filled with a powdery substance. She tapped the powder into one of the goblets, then filled it with a hearty serving of ale. After filling the second goblet for herself, she hoisted them in her hands, offering one to him.

"Well, are ya going to leave a girl hanging or are ya gonna drink? What kind of pirate are you?"

"The thirsty kind," he said, accepting the goblet from her outstretched hand.

"To plunder and adventure," she laughed, holding up her goblet in a mock toast before downing the entire goblet of ale in a single, not very lady-like chug. Hook brought the goblet to his own lips and took a drink, but something wasn't quite right. He stumbled to his bunk, losing his grip on the goblet as he staggered. The remaining ale spilled out onto the teak floor planks as the goblet fell to the deck. As he sat down on the bed, he slumped over and his head struck the cabin wall.

Devereaux paused for a few moments, making sure he was unconscious before she moved toward the safe. The lock was a puzzling one. It had what appeared to be a keyhole, but it was unlike any shape she'd encountered before. A quick review of the stateroom didn't reveal any key ring hanging about so he must either keep them hidden or he had them somewhere on his body. A sly smile crossed her lips at the thought of pawing through his pockets, but as she leaned in to slide a hand into his coat, she found a dagger trained at her throat instead.

"Next time, make damned sure that all of the powder dissolves if you don't want someone to know you're trying to drug them," a very wide awake Captain Hook spat.

"It's really not what you think," she stammered, trying to back away from the blade but he kept with her.

"Not what I think? I think you were trying to steal from me. I saw the way you looked at that bronze piece. I know that greedy gaze all too well."

"Put the dagger away and let me explain."

"I don't need an explanation. I need you gone. Get the hell off my ship before I decide to slit your throat."

"You're letting me go?"

"It's your lucky day. But if I ever cross paths with you again, consider yourself warned." With the dagger still pressed to her neck, he backed her up the steps and onto the deck. "Make sure Captain Sinclair leaves my ship right away," he shouted so that all of the crew remaining on deck would hear. "If she resists, kill her. If she comes back, well, you know…"

With multiple swords being drawn around her, Devereaux was quite certain that none of his crew would defy his order. She scurried down the gangway and sprinted toward town, knowing full well that she'd revisit this someday. No matter how long it took, she would come back to get her hands on the object she'd spent so much time searching for and not even Captain Hook would stand in her way.

 _Storybrooke – Present Day_

More than a few staff members and patients were startled when Regina, Emma and Killian appeared in the middle of the hospital's Emergency room waiting area, but Regina didn't have time to deal with the surprised glances and stares that they received.

"Can we get some help over here? Now?" she snarled. "And find that damned doctor! He'd better be sober."

"Regina, really?" Emma was embarrassed by her outburst as she aided a shaky Killian to his feet.

"We can't afford to waste time," Regina replied as a young, blonde nurse hurried toward them. The sound of urgency in Regina's voice had Emma wondering just what they were really up against.

"How can we help?" the nurse asked as she approached.

"He's been poisoned," Emma replied.

"Do you know what kind of poison?" was the nurse's next question.

"Yes – and it's nothing pleasant," Regina snapped. The young nurse was a bit taken aback, but continued to be polite and focused her attention on Killian.

"Let's get you over to the exam area," she said directly to him. "Are you able to walk or would you like assistance?"

Despite the fact that he still felt as though someone was crushing his chest, he replied that he was indeed okay to walk. He wasn't about to let the poison get the best of him, not yet at least and he wasn't about to let Emma see how much he was really hurting. He knew what widowsbane pollen was and had a very good idea of what to expect but although he was terrified, he wasn't going to let it show.

Even though he'd been here before, modern hospitals were still something that Killian didn't fully appreciate. The sterile coldness made him a bit apprehensive, but he had little choice right now. As the nurse had him lay down on the exam table, he was reminded of the last time he'd been in that position – his ribs broken and head pounding after striking the windshield of a moving car. What an introduction to the modern world that had been! He wondered how much Emma had seen through his flirtatious front back then, but now, if only the feeling of his ribs being crushed from the outside had been any different from the pain he was presently experiencing.

When at last Dr. Whale pulled back the exam room curtain, the displeasure on the doctor's face was readily apparent.

"Regina, Emma. Always such a joy to see you both," he quipped.

"If we could get another doctor in this town, you'd never have to see us again," Regina retorted.

"Okay – now is not the time," Emma stated, stepping between Regina and Whale. "Killian's been poisoned and we need your help."

"What kind of poison?" Whale asked.

"Widowsbane pollen," Regina replied sternly. While it wasn't from his land and definitely wasn't from Storybrooke, Whale was familiar with the toxin.

"Nasty stuff, but we don't stock the antidote for something that Old World here." Emma's heart sank a little hearing that they had no antidote here. She was either going to have to bargain with a pirate or hope that Regina could really prepare it in time.

"I know you don't have the antidote here," Regina stated. "I can make it, but where you come in is that we need to slow the poison's progress. The best way to do that would be for him to be completely unconscious."

"Unconscious?" Emma wondered. This was Regina's plan to help?

"You want me to sedate him?" Whale asked.

"Yes," Regina replied – essentially answering both questions with one word. "I could easily conjure up a sleeping potion, but using medicine would have a lot fewer side effects."

"How is putting Killian into a deep sleep going to help? And what did you mean earlier when you said it was mostly immune to magic? What exactly does this poison do?" Emma really wasn't sure about Regina's idea and Killian himself was just listening to the arguments to determine what made the most sense to him. He was in too much pain to argue right now anyway.

"Clearly you know this one better than I, Madame Mayor," Whale said. "Maybe you should explain?"

Regina sighed, knowing full well that Emma wasn't going to like any of this.

"As I said before, it's a slow moving toxin. There's no way to remove the toxin using magic, nor can the ingredients for the antidote be conjured. As it starts to take hold, there is a burning sensation, then fever, seizures and eventually a paralyzing effect that makes it impossible to breathe." Horrified, Emma glanced over at Killian and he spotted that knowing look in her eyes that she could already sense the pain he was trying so hard to conceal.

"You forgot to mention the part about your chest feeling as though it were being crushed under a boulder," Killian added, his voice little more than a whisper.

"Let me get this straight," Emma began, clearly exasperated, "you're saying that if he's sound asleep, the poison slows down?"

"It should," Regina replied, "but I've never actually had to test that theory until now."

There was no denying her concern as Emma's eyes again met his, but Killian saw no other option available to them. At least this way, she wouldn't have to watch him in pain.

"It can't hurt, Swan," he told her as he grasped ahold of his hook with his hand and gave it a twist, unlocking it from its base and pulling it free from the leather sheath. "Probably best if you hold on to this. I wouldn't want to injure myself or anyone else when the inevitable convulsions arise." He tried to pretend that he didn't notice the tear on her cheek as he placed the most defining icon of who he was into her hands for safekeeping.

"Well, okay then," Whale spoke up before things got too emotional. He turned to the nurse first. "Janet, get an IV started and let's get our patient upstairs to the ICU where we can best monitor him through the night. It's pretty quiet up on that floor and hopefully, it will stay that way. I'll meet you upstairs, but first, Regina, can I have a word with you outside?"

She nodded and followed him into the corridor where they could talk in private.

"This isn't a poison I know a lot about," Whale admitted, "but I do know that it's not from this realm. I'm not sure how science and medicine will counteract it."

"I'm not looking for a cure," Regina replied. "I just need your science and medicine to keep him alive long enough for me to brew the antidote. I don't have access to the machines and things that you do. I have magic, but magic won't stop this poison."

"I hope you know what you're doing," he said as he walked away, leaving her standing in the empty hallway.

"Yes, I know what I'm doing," Regina said aloud to assure herself. "I just don't know if it will work…"


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four_

Rather than create another scene as she made her way up to the third floor, Regina chose to take the elevator instead of using magic. As the doors parted, she could already see Emma nervously pacing at the end of the hallway. Whale had wisely chosen a room at the end of the corridor, off by itself which would afford some privacy as well as a secure view of both the elevator and stairwell in the event a certain lady pirate tried to do something foolish. Emma spied her as she exited the elevator and pointed toward the currently unoccupied nurses' station to her left. Regina nodded and joined her there for a private conversation.

"What was that all about?" Emma asked. "What did Whale want to talk to you about?"

"He was just asking about my experience with this particular poison. Nothing to be overly concerned about. What's going on in there?" Regina motioned toward the room with the closed door and drawn privacy curtain.

"I don't know. They won't let me in yet," Emma replied, the frustration quite evident in her tone. "I'm his wife. I should be with him."

"I'm sure it's just routine stuff. I think Whale knows better than to try and piss you off."

"The person pissing me off right now is Devereaux Sinclair. When I get my hands on her…"

"You don't honestly believe that she'll willingly hand over the antidote if you give her that looking glass, do you?"

"Right now, I don't know what to believe. Killian said he didn't trust her and that's certainly been proven. How long do you think it will take you to make the antidote?"

"It depends on how long it takes to locate all of the ingredients. It's not like I can just walk into a supermarket to get them. A few hours, maybe. A day at most."

Emma started to say something in response, but the sight of a nurse poking her head out of Killian's room caught her attention.

"Mrs. Jones?" the nurse called to her as she stepped into the hallway. The name almost didn't register with Emma as she was still getting used to her newest title. "Mrs. Jones, the doctor is ready for you to join us now."

"Our conversation isn't over," she told Regina as she hurried to her husband's side. Regina chose to linger by the nurses' station for a while, then wandered over to the glass partition that made up the room's front wall. She deliberately chose not to set foot in the room though, allowing this somewhat emotional moment to be strictly between Emma and Killian.

Stripped of his ever-present black leather and having already surrendered his hook, there was a vulnerability to Killian Jones that was equally tender and haunting. Now clad only in the standard hospital gown and robe, Emma could already sense his anxiety, as though his layer of armor was missing.

Until the antidote was in their hands, all that they knew lay ahead was uncertainty.

She found herself struggling to take in his appearance as he lay there before her. It wasn't the worst she'd ever seen him, not by a longshot, but it was affecting her deeply this time. A well-worn tan blanket was pulled up to his chest and his maimed left arm was tucked beneath the cover as though he were suddenly ashamed of it. His right arm lay atop the blanket at his side, his hand looking uncharacteristically bare as his rings had been removed and stored with the rest of his belongings. Now there was only an IV needle taped in place to the back of his hand and she could see a bundle of wires that extended from sensors adhered to his chest, extending out to the machines that would monitor his vital signs as he slept.

"Are you alright, Swan?" he asked softly, obviously struggling to get the words out.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," she replied, fully knowing that he was going to respond in his typical macho bravado manner, pretending that everything was fine. His breathing was already labored and he was clearly in pain, but while he didn't want to lie to her, he feared worrying her.

"We've been in worse spots," he said, "but I'd still rather not be here."

"I know," she agreed, grasping his hand and squeezing it as tight as she could without disturbing the IV tubing. Behind her, Whale was holding onto a syringe and as Killian's eyes were drawn to it, Emma felt his palm become damp with beads of sweat.

"If you both are ready," Whale spoke up. "This sedative will take affect rather quickly."

Killian could see his own reflection in his wife's teary green eyes as he nodded. Trying to say aloud that he was ready would have been a lie so a nod of his head was the best response he could muster.

"I will be right here when you wake up," Emma promised.

"I know you will," he replied, flinching a bit as Whale injected the contents of the syringe into a small port that spurred off of the tubing taped to his hand and causing the tiny needle to shift. It seemed to only take a few seconds before his eyelids began to feel heavy. "I love…"

He wasn't able to get the word "you" out before drifting off to sleep, his head lolling slightly to the side as his neck muscles relaxed. Emma squeezed his hand again then gently placed his arm back down at his side. She leaned forward to kiss his slightly parted lips, but once again was interrupted by Regina.

"Emma, you can't do that," Regina said with a hint of real empathy in her voice. "You can't kiss him."

Emma gazed up with a puzzled look on her face.

"Why not?"

"Because having magic will transfer the poison to you. It's the only effect magic has on this poison. I didn't get a chance to tell you that earlier. It may save him, but you'd put yourself in danger. The poison is too unpredictable to chance that."

Emma sighed loudly as she tenderly caressed his cheek, her thumb absentmindedly stroking the scruff along his jawline as she tried to remind herself what she had to do next. She straightened herself up and took a step away from the bed, pausing to glance back at him as one of the nurses positioned a clear plastic tube into his nostrils that would supply extra oxygen to him during his slumber while the other raised the safety railings on each side of the bed. Steeling her composure before exiting the room, she walked directly over to Regina.

"While I was waiting earlier, I called David," Emma stated. "He's on his way over to keep watch. Please fill him on all of the details when he gets here, then do what you can to get the antidote together."

"You called your father for guard duty? Where are you going?"

"I'm going pirate hunting," Emma stated, matter-of-factly. Killian might have given Devereaux a break earlier that afternoon, but all bets were off now. The pirate wench had pissed off the wrong woman this time.

* * *

It was a little after 8PM when David and Snow arrived at the hospital having received a rather cryptic call from their daughter. She hadn't gone into much detail, but from the inflection in her voice, clearly she'd been upset. She pleaded for David to head to the hospital and meet Regina on the third floor. Her exact words had been "Regina will fill you in, but I need you there to protect him." David had planned to come alone, but Snow had insisted on joining him, so after finding a last minute babysitter for little Neal, they'd rushed to the hospital to find out what was going on. As they stepped out of the elevator and saw the signs that identified this floor as the Intensive Care Unit, they shared the same worried glance.

They already knew that Emma wasn't hurt since David had talked to her less than an hour earlier, but her voice – manic, frazzled and uncertain – spoke volumes. There wasn't much that rattled Emma Swan so they knew someone she loved was in trouble and both David and Snow had the same sinking feeling in their gut – something had happened to Killian. They just couldn't piece together a reason why Emma wouldn't be at his side if their suspicions proved correct.

Looking around for Regina, they'd finally spotted her seated in a small lounge area to the right of the elevator that was sparsely furnished with a dark chocolate colored sofa and three matching armchairs that had clearly seen better days. A round table in the center of the room was strewn with a variety of magazines and a still-folded copy of that morning's newspaper.

"Regina – there you are," David said as they walked swiftly toward her, eager to learn what Emma had called so frantically about. "Emma said to meet you here, but she didn't really say why. What the hell is going on?"

"You may want to sit down," Regina replied, motioning toward the sofa, but neither took her up on that suggestion. "Suit yourselves," she said, then continued with the story. "It appears that a fellow pirate from Hook's past found her way to Storybrooke. He caught her trying to steal something from his ship this afternoon and in the process, she dropped an object that she's apparently willing to kill to get back. She thought that Emma had taken said object back to the sheriff station and broke in there too. To make a long story short, Killian surprised our pirate visitor when he arrived to meet Emma, but she got away after poisoning him with a face full of widowsbane pollen."

Snow shuddered at the mention of widowsbane. It was one of the most vile substances she could think of and knowing that her son in law had been inflicted with it horrified her.

"This is terrible," Snow sighed, "but I can't believe that Emma would just leave him here alone like this. It doesn't make sense…"

"She left to track down the pirate bitch who started all this because supposedly she'll trade the antidote for the object she dropped. Besides, Emma is the only person other than Killian who knows what this lady pirate looks like. She would only be watching him sleep anyway. Whale sedated him to help slow down the poison's progress."

"Hopefully going after this pirate doesn't prove to be a wild goose chase," David said, worried that the promise of a trade might be a ruse.

"I felt the same way. I know how to make the antidote, but it won't be easy." A long history if interactions with Regina told David one thing for sure – he wasn't going to like what she had to say next. "We have one major challenge to me making the antidote – the main component is the thimble flower which doesn't grow here in Storybrooke. There's no way to magically conjure one up either. I've got to find a substitute and making sure that Killian was unconscious was the only thing I could think of to buy us some time."

"Does Emma know this?" Snow wondered.

"No. I didn't want doubt getting into her head. I'm going straight to the library from here to do some botanical research and hopefully find a flower from the same family that will work. I called Belle and asked for her help, but I have no intention of revealing who needs the antidote."

"How is he doing right now?" David asked.

"He was exhibiting all of the early signs of widowsbane poisoning – shortness of breath, burning sensation, pain and fatigue. He's in the room at the end of the corridor, next to the nurses' station. My guess is that Emma wants you to stay here in case this lady pirate is dumb enough to come after him again."

"We wouldn't leave him here alone anyway," Snow said. "Asleep or not, someone should be here with him."

"Just make sure they keep a close watch on his temperature," Regina stated as she stood up and took a step toward the elevator. "If his fever starts to spike, it will accelerate the toxin. That could be disastrous."

"Understood," David said. "How long do you think you'll need?"

"I have no idea. But I'm serious, make sure they keep his temperature as close to normal as possible. We need all the time we can get."

With that statement, Regina stepped into the elevator and left the Charmings alone with their thoughts.

"We can only take things one disaster at a time," David said as they slowly, pensively strolled to the end of the hallway toward the room where their daughter's true love lay essentially comatose. They made it as far as the glass partition before David instinctively wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders, knowing that the sight of their son in law in pain was going to be upsetting to her. A nurse stood next to the bed, scribbling something on a chart while staring at a screen covered in numbers and wavy lines and as they both glanced over from where she stood, their first glimpse of the sleeping Killian proved to be a bit unsettling.

After everything that Emma and Killian had already been through, David hoped that Regina was right. He had to keep the hope alive that there was another flower she could use because as a father, he couldn't bear the thought of watching Emma's heart break again.

* * *

Out of an inky blackness, Killian was awakened by a sudden sense of movement. Slowly opening his eyes, he took a moment to adjust to the light, but this wasn't right. He realized he was no longer in that sterile hospital room. He was back home – in his own bed – but how? How did he get here? What had happened that he wasn't able to recall?

Then the bed shook as if an earthquake had struck. He nearly bolted upright, but instead, tensed and froze, not knowing what might be awaiting him.

And then came the voice.

"Daddy? Come on, Daddy. It's time to get up."

Daddy? Now he was really confused. Exactly how long had he been asleep?

Laying on his left side, he knew that the voice had come from behind him and as he slowly rolled onto his back, he found himself face to face with a little girl about five or six years old.

"Hi! You're awake," she grinned, her huge sea blue eyes sparkling, framed by golden curls that tumbled around a cherubic little face.

"Hello, child," he replied cautiously, not knowing if this was a dream or some sort of awful, drug induced hallucination. The lass was the spitting image of Emma, yet her eyes were the same sapphire blue as his own – not to mention that there was no mistaking her little pirate smirk. He had no doubt that this could be the image of their child, but was she real? Was any of this real? "And just who are you?" he asked her, trying to make the question sound like a tease, but he really needed to know.

"Really?" she asked, sarcasm strong in her tone. She bounced down onto her knees and nearly on top of his chest. "You know who I am and you promised to take me sailing today."

Perhaps this was going to be harder than he'd thought.

"Did I?" he asked as he sat up so that he was at her level. "I guess I don't recall that conversation."

"You don't seem to remember anything today," she said, moving in closer to him so that her tiny face was directly in front of his. She cocked her head to one side like a puppy and stared into his eyes. "You sick or something?" Clearly sass was strong with this one.

"Perhaps," he said, finally allowing a smile to form on his lips. Whatever he was experiencing right now – dream or otherwise – he didn't feel threatened. Confused and a bit bewildered, but at least not as apprehensive as he'd been initially. "Let's pretend I've forgotten everything and you have to make me remember."

He was reminded of the eerie familiarity of his own words as he said them.

"Why?" she was obviously skeptical of the idea.

"Just a game."

"Okay," she smiled as she sprang to her feet and resumed bouncing on the bed next to him. "I'm Maeve and you're my daddy, but you already knew that."

Maeve.

Our daughter is named after a legendary warrior queen, he thought. It couldn't have been more fitting.

"Well, Miss Maeve Jones, it is a pleasure to meet you," he laughed, pretending to bow to his pirate princess.

"I don't want to play this game anymore," she said, hopping off of the bed and darting around to the side where he was sitting. She grasped his hand and started tugging, urging him to get out from under the covers. "Come on! Let's go sailing!"

He started to laugh again, but then abruptly stopped at the sudden realization that she was pulling on his left hand. There was no leather sheath or hook. No stub of an arm that ended at the wrist.

It was his own left hand and with it, he could feel the softness of her tiny fingers against his palm.

What the hell sort of dream was this?

* * *

Even though as mayor, Regina possessed a set of keys to the library, her opinion was why waste time using a key to open a lock when - as she'd said before – magic's faster? A flick of her wrist unlocked and opened the door, then flipped on the lights. She immediately started scanning the shelves full of leather bound books and journals, looking for anything she could find that was even remotely botany related. It was a long shot, but there had to be some plant here in this land that was from the same genus as the thimble flower.

She knew she probably should have waited for Belle, but knowing this could take hours as it was, she decided to start digging alone, pulling five volumes from the shelves and placing them atop the library table.

"I do hope you have a good reason for dragging me out here this late in the evening," Belle said, laying the ring of actual library keys down on the table next to the stack of books. "I see you let yourself in."

"I'm in a bit of a hurry and I may need your help," Regina replied.

"Yes, the you needing my help part was more than a bit surprising."

"You know this place better than anyone else so I need your help to locate books on botany – more specifically books that would show plants and flowers from multiple realms."

"That's quite a specific genre request. Why the sudden botanical interest?"

Regina flipped open the cover on the first volume and began to thumb through the pages scanning for references to thimble flowers.

"Someone here in town – I'm not at liberty to say who – was poisoned earlier today, and before you ask, it wasn't my doing. I need to brew the antidote, but the most important ingredient can't be found here in Storybrooke – a small flower known as the thimble flower. I'm trying to find something similar that grows here in this land – something from the same family if possible." Regina chose her words carefully so as not to reveal who had been poisoned as she didn't need anything getting back to Gold right now.

"Okay, this might take a while. I can think of a few possible titles that cover multiple realms. Let me see what I can turn up."

"Thank you," Regina replied. "I'll start with these." She pointed to the stack of books to her left. "Unfortunately, we don't have a lot of time." Knowing that more than three hours had already passed, the clock was definitely ticking.

* * *

Yawning as she mindlessly thumbed through a weeks old magazine she'd found in the lounge, Snow glanced up at the clock on the wall.

12:28.

A few minutes ago, she'd sent David to get some rest after he'd taken the first shift on guard duty, but she doubted that he'd be any luckier than she'd been. She'd closed her eyes for a few minutes, but her worried mind wasn't about to let her rest. Emma still had not returned from her search for Killian's assailant and there had been no word from Regina either. She could only hope that in both cases, no news was good news.

With the nurses' permission, she had decided it was best to stay in the room with Killian. Whether he knew she was here or not really didn't matter. It was the right thing to do for family. She just found it a bit strange to be sitting next to her son in law watching him sleep. It was just too quiet. No snarky commentary. No sarcastic wit. No beaming smile or contagious laughter.

It just wasn't right and while she knew that his slumber wasn't due to a sleeping curse, it was still triggering those unfortunate memories and dragging up all of her doubt.

"Hang in there, Killian," she said out loud, really hoping he was able to hear her. "After what we've already been through, I know we're going to get you through this too."

But as she reached through the bedside safety rail to give him a reassuring pat on the arm, her motherly instincts kicked in, sending up an alert that things were very wrong. His skin was a lot warmer to her touch than it should have been. Immediately, her hand went to his forehead which she found was both hot and damp with sweat. This was not good, she thought as she also noticed that his hand was trembling slightly.

"We need some help in here!" she shouted, hoping to get the attention of the two nurses sitting at their desk a few feet away. Startled as Snow's cry for help interrupted their conversation, one of them sprang to her feet and hurried toward their patient's room. The other spun around in her chair, realizing that she'd turned her back on the monitors at the wrong time. Killian's temperature and heart rate had climbed to dangerous levels so she instantly picked up the phone and paged the doctor.

Snow backed out of the way as the first nurse pressed a thermometer to Killian's temple. After a few seconds, it beeped and even Snow could read the number that was displayed in red digital characters on the screen – 104.8. To say that it was dangerously high would have been an understatement.

"Doctor's on his way," the younger nurse stated to her colleague as she rushed into the room.

"Good," the other nurse replied. "Right now, we need to work on lowering his temperature. There should be ice packs and chilled towels in the storage room cooler. Bring me all you can find."

The young nurse nodded and scurried down the hallway, disappearing behind a set of double doors. The other retrieved a small vial of medicine that Dr. Whale had left on a tray in the event that Killian's fever started to rise. She jabbed the hollow needle of a syringe through the cap, then once the syringe was filled, she injected its entire contents into the portal tube connected to the IV line.

David, who'd been awakened by his wife's voice and the sudden flurry of activity, took Snow's hand and pulled her out into the hallway where they watched helplessly through the glass as the first seizure hit. Though still in the drug induced sleep state, Killian was shaking and clearly gasping for air. The younger nurse arrived with a cart full of supplies at the same time that Whale showed up and started barking out orders. The nurses began packing the cold towels and the soft sided frozen gel ice packets around Killian's neck and chest as the first seizure subsided. They were hoping to lower his core temperature quickly until the medication kicked in, but only seconds later, another wave of seizures began, far more intense than the first. The violent convulsions sent items flying and when the IV line became entangled with the side rail, it tore loose from his hand.

Cursing under his breath, Whale pulled another syringe from his lab coat pocket, removed the cap and plunged it directly into Killian's chest about two inches below his right collarbone. Snow winced and turned away from the window, unable to watch any longer. Whale, realizing he really didn't want or need an audience right now, had the nurse draw the privacy curtain closed around the bed. This was exactly the situation they didn't want to be in and he was upset that his team of nurses hadn't been paying close enough attention to their patient. The poison was accelerating and there was no way to know for certain if they could slow it down. They could only hold out hope that modern medicine could get the upper hand on an old world toxin.

* * *

But as they battled the attack on his body, Killian's unconscious mind was experiencing something entirely different. This time as he opened his eyes there was nothing.

No hospital. No house. No sound other than that of his own breath and pounding heart.

Just darkness that most importantly was devoid of the blonde child who'd called him daddy.

"Bloody hell," he sighed, fearing he was caught in some Purgatory again, but then out of the blackness there was a little giggle. "Maeve?"

A little speck of light appeared in front of him, no bigger than a fly, and began to flit about his head. When he raised his hand to swat it away, he heard another giggle. Another game?

"What kind of nightmare is this supposed to be?" he shouted into the void. "Are you toying with me?"

As swiftly as it had appeared, the speck of light vanished, leaving him alone to face this new and different manifestation of darkness. But he wasn't ready to give up just yet.

"Whatever you want from me, know that I'm not giving up! I have no intention of not fighting." He wanted the darkness that surrounded him to know that he wasn't afraid. Then there was another little laugh, louder this time. All he could do was call out to her. "Maeve?!"


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter Five_

After nearly twenty agonizing minutes, Whale finally emerged from Killian's room. Neither Snow nor David could get a read on his expression as he approached them. Behind him, they could see one of the nurses reopening the curtain but from the angle where they were standing, they weren't able to see inside.

"Well?" David asked impatiently.

"We were able to get him stabilized," Whale replied. "I've given him an anti-convulsive medication that will help control the seizures and we were able to get his fever down to under 102 degrees. It's still higher than I'd like to see, but at least it's in a safer range."

"Oh thank goodness," Snow breathed a sigh of relief.

"Let's not get too excited," Whale continued. "We still don't know how much time this bought us. If someone doesn't come up with the antidote pretty soon, we may be just prolonging the inevitable."

"You don't know Killian the way we do. He's going to fight this with everything he's got," Snow stated, if for nothing else than to make herself feel better.

"I surely hope that you're right," Whale said, "because he's still got one heck of a fight ahead of him. I did increase the sedatives so he's back into a deep sleep again, but he was having such a difficult time breathing that I had to make the decision to put him on a ventilator. If you're not familiar with that machine, it basically is one that breathes for him by way of a tube placed down into his windpipe. I wanted to warn you because it might be a little disconcerting, but there really wasn't another option."

"Thank you," Snow told him, now really unsure of what to expect. "Are we able to go back in to see him now?"

Whale nodded. "I'll check on him periodically throughout the night. Let me know as soon as you see or hear from Emma though. I'm going to need to speak to her."

"We will," David assured him as Whale left them, heading off down another corridor. He had a very good idea of what Whale needed to discuss with Emma, but he tried not to think about it as he again wrapped his arm around Snow, pulling her in tight to him. "It's going to be alright," he said. "I can't believe that I'm saying this, but I trust Regina. She's going to find the right flower to make the antidote."

"For Emma and Killian's sake, I sure hope so," Snow said as they stepped back up to the glass wall and peered into the room before stepping inside. Even with Whale's warning, Snow gasped a little at the sight before them. The doctor had not been exaggerating when he'd said that the sight of Killian being aided by the ventilator would be troubling, but it wasn't just that. The whole scene disturbed her. Neither of them said a word as they stepped through the doorway, not because they feared waking him but rather out of pure shock.

Finding the reality of the plastic tube extending from the corner of his mouth and connecting to multiple other intimidating looking tubing and hoses a bit much to take in, Snow found herself unable to even look at Killian's face, instead noting the minor details. A small square gauze bandage had been taped to his chest, covering the puncture wound Whale's syringe had inflicted when injecting the anti-convulsive drug. The back of his hand was also bandaged as it had bled when the IV needle was torn loose. A new IV was taped securely in place to the inside of his wrist, directly over the old tattoo of Milah's name.

"It's after one AM," David began, sensing her tension. "I'm wide awake now. I'll stay until Emma gets back. Why don't you head home and get some sleep?"

"I feel like I should stay though. What if Emma needs me?"

"Then I will call you," he assured her. "Go home. Try to sleep. I promise to let you know if anything changes."

"Alright," she sighed, giving him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. "Please let me know when you talk to Emma. I don't care what time it is."

"I promise," he replied, not sure exactly how long that might be. He'd hoped that she would have at least sent a text message by now. Clearly she was fixated on finding this rouge pirate, but with each minute that went by, he became more concerned.

* * *

This time, Killian knew where he was before he was even able to open his eyes. The welcoming scent of the marine air embraced him like an old friend; the sound of waves striking the dock and sails flapping in the breeze were like music to this pirate's ears.

"All hands on deck, Pirate!"

There was that sweet little voice again, he thought as he opened his eyes to find himself standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger.

"Is that any way to talk to the Captain of this vessel?" he smiled, seeing only the very top of a blonde head and two tiny hands above the helm. Laughing as he ascended the steps to the navigation deck, he saw Maeve poised on her tiptoes trying to maneuver the huge wheel. Thankfully, they were still moored in the harbor or who knows where they'd be now.

"You told me that a proper pirate princess should know how to captain her own ship," she stated firmly.

"And so she shall," he replied, sliding a storage trunk across the deck for her to stand on. He hoisted her up atop the trunk and guided her hands to the proper position on the helm. "Tell me where we're navigating to today, Captain?"

"The Enchanted Forest."

"Then off we shall go. Twenty degrees to starboard!"

Without any guidance from him, she turned the huge wheel clockwise. Child after his own heart. Part of him actually wanted to cast off the moorings, but not knowing exactly how things worked in this dream world, he felt it best to stay put in the harbor.

"Calm seas ahead," she giggled, turning to give him a huge hug that felt so real that for a moment, he nearly forgot that he was only dreaming.

* * *

Now after four AM, Emma had been all over town in search of Devereaux Sinclair, leaving her physically and emotionally exhausted. She'd give the pirate credit – she knew how to hide, but if she really wanted to trade the mirror for the antidote, being evasive didn't make much sense. It was almost as though this were just a part of some sick game that Emma really didn't want to play. Whatever history Devereaux and Killian had, it was pretty evident that they hadn't ended things on good terms – at least not from Devereaux's perspective. Killian didn't appear to be bothered by whatever was implied, possibly having forgiven her enough to let her go earlier. Devereaux was another story. Maybe she was just a sociopathic crazed lunatic. No matter what, Emma was determined to get answers out of her and hopefully, the antidote too, -assuming Devereaux even really had it and this wasn't just another ploy in her game.

But nagging in the back of Emma's head was a lingering bit of guilt. If she hadn't been engaged in such a long meeting with Regina discussing that stupid compact, she would have already been back at her office before Devereaux broke in. It would have been a very different confrontation had she been there. The pain in the ass pirate would already be behind bars and Killian wouldn't be fighting for his life in a hospital bed.

Of course, she knew that second guessing herself wasn't going to help them right now. Hindsight was always perfectly clear when the present and future were muddy. She had to focus so, as she sat in her car parked on the street in front of the Sheriff's station, she reminded herself of the task at hand. It was at that moment that she felt the weight of Killian's hook, still tucked securely inside her jacket as she'd wanted to keep part of him close to her heart. She lifted it from her pocket and held it lovingly in her palm for a few seconds, long enough for a tear to escape the corner of her eye and drift down her cheek. Only a few hours ago, they'd been happily strolling arm in arm along the waterfront and then Devereaux Sinclair and her damned mirror crossed their path…

The mirror.

Why hadn't she thought of this before now? With a flash of realization, Emma placed the hook on the seat next to her as she dug into a different pocket to locate the compact. It had shown her a vision earlier, and if Regina was to be believed and this compact really could function as a crystal ball, perhaps she could get it to give her some clue as to where Sinclair was hiding.

"Wonder how you get this crazy thing to work?" she asked herself as she pressed the button to open the compact. Seeing her own reflection – bloodshot eyes and weary, gaunt face - all she was seeing was her own face. "Come on," she pleaded with it. "You showed me something before. Do it again."

She nearly regretted asking for the object's help as the first fuzzy image came to life in the bottom mirror because what it showed her was a view of Killian laying deathly still in the hospital bed with her mother seated by his side. It reacts to emotion, she thought. She'd been sad when she picked it up and worrying about Killian, so it gave her an image of him. She needed to change emotion and think about what Devereaux made her feel.

Anger.

Anger and frustration.

Channeling those emotions, the image in the bottom mirror began to change. The shadow of a female form came into view, at first only a dark profile. Emma needed more though. She needed something to identify where Devereaux might be and as the scene played out on the tiny mirror before her, a familiar setting was displayed in the background.

Her office.

Devereaux had apparently been interrupted early in her search when Killian found her and she had returned to continue her search for the mirror, apparently (and incorrectly) assuming that Emma would be entirely preoccupied with him. But how recent was this image? This may have been from earlier in the evening and there was a good possibility that she was long gone – a possibility that vanished as Emma spied a flash of light that flickered between the blinds on the station's front window.

A flashlight – and in the misty image displayed on the mirror, Devereaux was holding a flashlight.

She was still inside.

Emma snapped the compact closed as she pushed open the door of her little VW bug and stepped out into the street. Time to show this little pirate wench that you don't mess with the sheriff or her family in this town. She stormed up to the front door and – taking a page from Regina's playbook – blasted it open with magic. No use being subtle, Emma thought to herself as the door flew off the hinges. She didn't care if it had to be repaired later.

She wanted to make an ENTRANCE.

"I know you're here, pirate," Emma shouted, "and you can quit searching. You won't find your mirror in my office or anywhere else in this station because its right here in my hand!"

"That was quite a display," Devereaux replied as her head lifted above Emma's desk and into view through the glass partition. "I may have underestimated you, Sheriff. You have me at a bit of a disadvantage as I'm not a practitioner of magic."

"Step out of my office and give me the antidote."

"Hand over my mirror and we'll negotiate."

"This isn't up for negotiation," Emma stated as she waved her hand to close and lock the side door to her office, leaving Devereaux with only one path out. "Where's the widowsbane antidote?"

"Yeah…that…," Devereaux laughed, stepping through the door frame with an almost sadistic smile on her lips. "I kinda left it back on my ship."

"Then let's take a little trip out to your ship so you can get it."

"You think it's that easy?" Devereaux grinned. "Unless you happen to know of a portal back to the Enchanted Forest, it won't be an easy jaunt."

"I thought you told Killian that you arrived here by your ship being blown off course in a storm?"

"Not exactly. I got here through a portal after stealing a few magic beans from a sorcerer so that I could find a way back to the Jolly Roger."

"Why were you searching for the Jolly Roger?" Emma wondered.

"Because it's the last place I saw an object I've been hunting for a very long time. I'm sure by now you've opened the compact and since you obviously have magic, you know what it is."

"A looking glass."

"Exactly! A looking glass that came straight from the shores of Wonderland, but it was missing its handle. The last place I saw what I believed was the handle before the Queen's curse struck was aboard the Jolly Roger. Hook blocked me from taking it years ago and I've been searching the realms for it ever since. Little did I know that it had been brought to this strange new land."

"It's what you were after in the safe this afternoon, wasn't it?"

"Aye, and it's what I went back to search for again after our encounter here in your office. Damned if I could figure out how to open that safe though. I'll give him credit for that one…"

"Encounter? That's what you're calling it? You poisoned him!" Emma patience had waned and her face flushed crimson with anger.

"It really wasn't personal. I needed a diversion and it was a perfect one to keep him off of the ship, and of course I thought it would keep you busy, pining at his side. As I said, I may have underestimated you."

"You honestly thought that poisoning him with a deadly toxin was just a tactical diversion?!" Emma had had just about enough of Devereaux's cold, smug attitude.

"Just business," Devereaux responded nonchalantly. "Yours is upholding the law, mine is breaking it." She held up a tiny glass vial that appeared to contain the same purple dust that had been all over both Killian's skin and clothing as well as Emma's office earlier. "Now, I'd like my mirror back, if you please or I'll throw this. Think your magic is fast enough to stop a cloud of toxic dust from spreading?"

"Yeah, I do," Emma replied and with a quick wave of her hand, the vial vanished from Devereaux's palm and rematerialized in Emma's possession. "And now I'm done dealing with you."

Emma tapped into her rage and frustration, flinging Devereaux into the wall then quickly got a magical grip around the pirate's throat, dragging her out of the office without ever actually laying a finger on her.

"What are you going to do – kill me?" Devereaux asked when Emma loosened her grip around her neck. "Go ahead. I know your type. You can't do it…"

"I have no intention of killing you. You're not getting off that easy." Emma waved her hand again to cause the iron barred door of the holding cell to swing open, then with one more flourish, tossed Devereaux across the room and into the cell. The pirate slammed hard into the concrete block wall, then slid slowly down to the bare concrete floor as the door slammed shut before her.

"You can tell Captain Hook I said goodbye," Devereaux spat. "Because unless he knows where the handle is, he'll never get the antidote."

"And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"With the handle attached, supposedly the looking glass gains the ability to open portals. It might be the only way to get to the antidote on my ship because you won't get it any other way."

"Guess it's a good thing that Regina is already working on a batch of the antidote then."

"Regina? The Evil Queen? If she told you that she can make the antidote here then she lied to you. There isn't a way to make the antidote here because the flower needed to brew it doesn't grow in this land." As Devereaux began to laugh over the realization that Emma had actually believed the Evil Queen's words, Emma threw her one more time, slamming her into the cell's tiny, bare cot.

"I'll be back to deal with you later, Sinclair. And just so you don't get any ideas about trying to break out…," Emma sealed the cell lock with her magic so the pirate wouldn't have any dreams of picking it. She then backed away, leaving the station with its door still laying on the floor. No one else would be crazy enough to break into a Sheriff's station anyway.

Right now, she needed to calm herself. She was angry that Regina had lied about the antidote and now that she'd learned that Devereaux didn't have it either, she was scared. Climbing back into her car, her eyes were immediately drawn to the shiny steel of Killian's hook as it reflected the street light above her. She had every right to be upset and Regina had a lot of explaining to do but right now, all she could think of was that she needed to be at his side – no matter what the outcome may be.

* * *

Hours into their research, the mountains of books had now spilled off of the library table into the floor and as dawn approached, Regina was growing increasingly frustrated. There had to be something. She refused to believe that with all of the flowers and plants in this land, there wouldn't be one that was related to a thimble flower. So far though, while she had found numerous references to thimble flowers, nothing mentioned anything outside of the Enchanted Forest.

"All of this is really beginning to make me hate flowers," Regina stated, slamming the cover of the book in front of her closed.

"Regina, please – many of these books are delicate. Could you please show them a little respect?" Belle's concern was genuine, but right now, Regina was really to tired to care.

"Are we looking in the right place?" Regina wondered.

"We are. There just aren't a lot of books that cover multiple realms, but I found this old journal that might be useful." Belle strolled over to the library table and showed Regina an ancient, sheepskin bound personal journal with a battered cover and pages that were brittle and yellowed. "It's the personal notes of an alchemist who used portals to travel through many different realms collecting flowers, plants and other items for his experiments and potions."

Regina's interest was piqued.

"Any mention of thimble flowers?"

"Not yet, but I'm only a few pages in. Its actually quite fascinating."

"Fascinating is wonderful. Relevant would be better." Sarcasm was flowing freely now as Regina was growing more weary and fatigued. "Let me know if you find anything useful."

Regina grabbed the next book from the stack and turned her attention toward it. Time was running short and so was her patience. She was ready to turn a toad into a thimble flower, but she knew it wouldn't work. Hell, she was ready to turn Devereaux Sinclair into a toad – and maybe she would after Emma got done with her. Maybe something lower than a toad? A cockroach perhaps so she could savor the satisfying squish under her heel?

But first she had to find something to make the antidote or things were going to get really challenging in this town. The last place she wanted to find herself was standing directly in front of a pissed off Emma Swan.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter Six_

Pissed off was definitely the correct adjective to describe Emma's mood as she arrived back at the hospital.

Pissed off.

Exhausted.

Scared.

Frustrated.

She felt each emotion as itself and yet equally all at the same time. Locating Devereaux and throwing her behind bars hadn't resolved anything as she didn't have the antidote. All of this was just one disturbing game to the raven haired pirate. She hated the thought that they weren't any closer - that they were still at the mercy of this poison.

Exiting the elevator back onto the third floor corridor, the first face she saw was her father's and it was actually a bit of welcome relief. She had felt so guilty leaving Killian here alone, but her family – their family - had stepped in and for that, she was grateful. She felt such a huge burden lifted from her as David wrapped his arms around her and gave her a huge, reassuring hug before ever uttering a word.

"Dad, thank you for coming down here when I called. Sorry if my rambling didn't make much sense. How's Killian?"

"He's obviously still asleep, but I'm so glad you're okay. We've been hoping to hear from you all night."

"I know. I've been a bit preoccupied. Captain Devereaux Sinclair is now locked up in the holding cell but…"

"She didn't have the antidote," David completed her sentence. "I could tell by the look on your face."

"That obvious?" she whispered, feeling more than a bit defeated.

"Guess it's a good thing that Regina's working on the antidote then."

"Is she really? Devereaux was all too happy to inform me that the antidote requires a flower that doesn't grow here, so unless Regina has a private stash somewhere, how am I supposed to believe that she can make it?"

"Because Regina's been at the library all night trying to find a substitute," David told her. "We have to believe that there's one out there."

"You knew about the flower?" Emma scowled.

"We've known Regina for a very long time. Your mother and I would have known if she were trying to keep something from us. She just didn't want to burden you with it because she knew you already had enough to worry about."

Emma sighed and shook her head as she took a step toward Killian's room, but David moved swiftly to block her way, not allowing her to go any further without a warning.

"Emma, before you go in there, we need to talk."

"About what? It's been a long night and my husband needs me to be there for him."

"Yes, he does, but he doesn't need all of this anger right now."

"Anger? I'm not angry, I'm pissed! Pissed at Devereaux Sinclair for ruining a perfectly good day. Pissed at Regina for not telling me the complete truth AGAIN and most importantly – pissed at myself for not being there when he needed me because I was too busy trying to figure out what this thing was!" She pulled the bronze compact that had caused so much difficulty out of her pocket and handed it to David.

"Did you at least establish what it was?" he wondered.

"According to Regina, it's a looking glass. From what I've figured out on my own, it works kind of like a combination of a crystal ball and a mood ring. It showed me images that led me to Killian after Devereaux attacked him and finally to Devereaux herself. I don't really know what makes it work."

David studied the intricate compact for a second then passed it back to Emma. "Think it might be able to lead you to the thimble flower substitute?"

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to try," Emma said, taking back the compact and tapping the release button with her fingernail to open it. She stared down at the reflection of her own bloodshot eyes, but nothing was changing. Maybe she just didn't know what emotion she was supposed to focus on for a flower. "It's not showing me anything, but it draws on emotion, so maybe because it's a thing, not a person, it won't work…"

"Or perhaps you just have too many emotions going on right now," David suggested. "You just need to set all of that aside before you go in there. He needs your strength right now, not all this negativity."

She looked up at David with a sudden trepidation as she snapped the halves of the compact closed. There was something in her father's tone that implied he was avoiding a big part of the story. What had changed in the past few hours?

"What exactly aren't you telling me?" she wondered. "Please tell me that Killian is alright…"

David scrunched his face as he tried to determine the best way to deliver the news. "We had a scare earlier tonight, but for the moment, he's hanging on."

"Hanging on? What kind of scare? What happened?" She wanted to push past him, but David grabbed onto her upper arms and held her back. "Dammit, what don't you want me to know?"

"Emma, just listen – his fever got a bit too high and he started having seizures. Both of the fever and the seizures are under control again, but he was having difficulty breathing, so Whale connected him to a machine that's helping him breathe…"

He couldn't get out the rest of his sentence before his daughter muscled her way out of his grasp and scurried around him, only to freeze as she passed through the doorway and got her first real glimpse of Killian since Whale had sedated him hours earlier. Her knees buckled and she suddenly began to feel faint, but David was right behind her to guide her over to the chair where she collapsed. She hadn't been prepared to see such a drastic change in such a short time - startled by the shocking tidal wave of emotion.

"That's why I wanted to warn you," David said, trying hard to be as reassuring and gentle as possible without sounding condescending.

"Regina said this was a slow moving poison. I didn't think he'd go downhill this quickly," she sighed, summoning the strength to move from the chair to Killian's bedside. She stood over him for a moment, then gently reached out to caress his cheek without disturbing any of the multitude of tubes that were helping to keep him alive. With her right hand, she took ahold of his, drawing his fingers to her own cheekbone. She wanted so much to feel his fingers tighten around hers, but he was so deeply comatose that there would be no response. As she took a seat on the edge of the bed beside the railing, David started to take a step back. "Don't go," she said, stopping him. "I could use the moral support right now."

"I thought you'd want some time alone."

"Not yet," she replied, her voice trembling. "I can't go through this again…"

"And we're not going to," he stated. "Killian's strong and he's got something to hold on to – you. He's fighting it and I know he's going to hang on until Regina gets here with the antidote."

"I sure hope she hurries up," she said, her eyes welling with tears. Her focus kept being pulled back to his face – his typically sparkling sapphire eyes now so tightly closed; his lips being held open by the clear plastic tubing that allowed him to breathe. While still certainly not the worst she'd ever seen him, it was disturbing in its own way. "He doesn't even look like my Killian right now. He looks so…fragile."

"I'm not sure I'd ever use the word fragile to describe Killian Jones. More like determined, persistent and a royal pain in the ass, but certainly, not fragile."

He succeeded in getting her to crack a smile, even if it was only a brief one.

"After all this time, you two still think the same way about each other," she smiled through the tears, but the smile faded as she thought about one sure way to help Killian. "I guess what hurts the most is that I'm sitting here with the knowledge that with one kiss, I could take away all of his pain – free him from the poison and take it on myself. Maybe my savior magic would make me better able to fight the toxin."

"But you can't do it," David stated, knowing exactly why she couldn't even before she said it.

"He'd never forgive me if I did. It would be completely against his wishes, but I just know that if he takes another turn for the worse, I'll do whatever I have to do to buy us more time." David knew exactly what she meant, but remained silent. He also know full well that were he in the same situation, he'd do the same thing.

* * *

"Regina, I think I found something!" Belle exclaimed excitedly. After such a very long night of pouring through page after page of botany text and illustrations, she felt she had finally made a breakthrough – a huge breakthrough.

Regina rubbed her bleary eyes as she glanced over at the brittle vellum pages opened in front of Belle.

"I hope you've got something. I'm starting to see double," Regina complained.

"Look at this," Belle said as she pushed the small journal across the table to Regina. "This is the alchemist's journal that I was telling you about earlier. I just found this passage where he writes about visiting a 'land without magic'."

"You have my attention," Regina stated, pushing aside the other volumes before her to focus on the journal. "A land like this one was when we got here?"

Belle nodded, then continued.

"In this entry, he describes collecting a flower he compares to the thimble flower:

'I happened across a lovely little find while exploring the woods by the river – a beautiful, delicate stem of little bells that made me draw comparisons to our land's own thimble flower. The tiny blossoms reminded me of those cup shaped white blooms and based on my experimentation, appear to have similar characteristics to those of the thimble flower, although perhaps a tad more toxic. I've found I've needed far less of the flower to obtain similar results with my potions.'."

Belle stopped reading at the end of that paragraph.

"Does this mystery flower have a name?" Regina asked.

"Not here, but there is a sketch." Belle turned the page to display a charcoal drawing of the plant they sought. "I've seen these before," she stated, pointing to the image.

Regina stared at the drawing for a moment, then had an epiphany.

"So have I," she realized, reaching down to retrieve a book from the floor. She flipped frantically through the pages until she found what she was looking for – a photograph of a floral stem with multiple white blossoms that looked like tiny bells. "This…"

Regina tapped on the photograph as they both read aloud the flower's name.

"Muguet des bois," Belle read the French translation of the name.

"Lily of the valley," Regina echoed as she read the name in English.

"I've seen them growing out in the woods, but only in the spring," Belle said.

"Kind of a problem when its October," Regina sighed, feeling a bit discouraged by this new development. She knew what she needed, but there was no way the pirate would survive until springtime.

Then Belle had a marvelous thought - seeds!

"Seeds!" Belle gushed. "I remember seeing seed packets for these in my father's flower shop. Would seeds work if we can find them?"

Regina thought about the possibility for a moment. "They might," she said. "While I can't just magically conjure up a thimble flower, using magic to speed up the natural growth process of a plant could work. It would still give us the same end product – a natural, living plant."

"The shop won't be open for a few more hours though."

"Since when do I need for a shop to be open?" With a wave of her hand and a swirl of purple smoke, Regina brought herself and Belle to the floral shop. Outside, the first traces of morning were beginning to appear over the horizon, but it was still quite dark in the shop. Knowing that at least twelve hours had already passed, Regina wasn't about to play by the established rules.

"Clearly we're doing things your way," Belle said as she searched for the light switch.

"My way's quicker," Regina made her point as Belle located the switch and flipped on the lights. "Now, do you remember where you saw those seeds?"

"Over here," Belle replied, pointing off to their left where there was a small display of house plants and a round metal rack of seed packages. She wasted no time searching through the variety of seed packets while Regina watched impatiently. "Here! We've got one!"

She handed the package of lily of the valley seeds to Regina.

"We need something to plant them in," Regina said, pulling a potted house plant from a nearby shelf. She yanked the existing greenery out of the soil, then tore open the seed packet and sprinkled every seed into the pot. Covering them with a thin layer of potting soil, she then held her hand hovering above the pot until the soil began to glow a bright sunny yellow hue.

Regina smiled as a tiny sprout pushed its way through the dirt then grew upward in a deep forest green spike. When at last it reached its desired height, the pointed emerald outer leaves unfurled to reveal the dainty sprig of bells hidden beneath.

"It's beautiful," Belle exclaimed.

Regina plucked the stem of blossoms from amongst the leaves, twirling it between her fingertips.

"And it does look remarkably like a thimble flower. Now, let's hope that alchemist was correct because I've got an antidote to brew. Thank you for all of your help tonight. I don't know if I would have found that journal on my own."

"You're welcome. I just hope it will help whomever needs it."

"So do I," Regina said under her breath, "or there's going to be hell to pay…" She had said it before, but it bore repeating.

* * *

Mentally unable to sleep and way too wound up with nervous energy to sit still, Emma found herself pacing absentmindedly at the foot of the hospital bed. Pausing only a moment to notice that the sun had risen, she glanced up at the clock on the wall which confirmed it was a little after seven AM.

She thought about how much had changed in just a little over twelve hours, but right now all she could focus on was that it was just too quiet. David had wandered off to find them both some coffee and now she was alone to contend with the seemingly too silent room - only in reality, it wasn't that quiet at all. She could hear every beep, every click, every hiss from the plethora of machines and monitors and as soon as she realized she was hearing them all at once again, she immediately resumed her pacing. The sound of her own footsteps became calming as they drowned out all of the unnatural noises that served as a constant reminder of where they were. She barely spoke to the nurses who were wandering in and out keeping a close watch on his vital signs as his temperature inched up a bit - though not yet back into the dangerous zone. It just felt like much more than a few hours had passed since she'd arrived back to the hospital.

"You know you're going to wear a hole through the floor," David stated, handing her a Styrofoam cup filled with what appeared to be coffee, although it didn't exactly have the right aroma. "It smells a bit like a swamp, but it packs a punch."

"Thanks," she replied, wrapping her hands around the cup and finally settling back down into the chair. "Do you think he knows we're here? He looks peaceful enough, but I just wonder what's going on inside his head."

"Having been through a sleeping curse, I know I experienced some really weird, vivid dreams, but I don't know if these drugs that Whale gave him would have that same effect."

"You remember what you dreamt while you were under the sleeping curse?"

"Some…well, most. It was a pretty intense experience. Considering what Killian has already been through, I really hope he's not experiencing any of what I did."

"I just want this to be over. I want to bring him home and get on with our lives – at least until the next inevitable crisis strikes this town. Is it really too much to ask?"

"No, it isn't," David replied, resting a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Why don't I go see if I can find us some breakfast? I think we could both use to eat something."

"I'm not really hungry, but thanks anyway."

"You can't survive on just coffee – or whatever that stuff is."

"Thank you for being the overprotective dad, but really, I'm fine," she smiled, right before their father-daughter moment was interrupted by a voice in the hallway. It was Regina who was clearly upset that she wasn't being allowed to get any closer to Killian's room since she wasn't immediate family.

"I'll take care of this," David said, stepping out into the corridor. "Its alright," he said to the nurse. "We've actually been expecting her." The nurse then quickly apologized and returned to her desk.

"Thank you," Regina said. "It's been a really long night. My temper's a little short."

"It's been a long night for all of us," David reminded her.

"Agreed," Emma spoke up, having made her way into the doorway, her ire focused directly at Regina. "A long night I spent hunting down a pirate who didn't have the antidote but who happily revealed a little bit of information that you omitted earlier – the fact that the flower needed to make the antidote doesn't grow in Storybrooke. Why did you lie to me about being able to make the antidote when you knew about that damned flower?"

Regina sighed while thinking of a response, trying to avoid looking directly at Emma.

"I didn't completely lie. I could make the antidote. I just needed to find a replacement flower – one that I spent all night flipping through dusty, musty books to find. And I found it…" She proudly held up a tiny glass vial containing a fine, pale blue powder.

"You found a substitute for the thimble flower? There really is one?" David asked.

"Actually, it was Belle who found it – a lily of the valley. But there's only one way to find out if it will work…," Regina used the vial to gesture toward the room where Killian lay.

"What the hell are we waiting for then?" Emma asked, stepping aside so that Regina could enter the room, but no sooner had Regina looked inside, she knew they had a problem. She paused in front of the glass wall for a second, unsure of how exactly to proceed. She hadn't expected that Killian would have a machine helping him breathe so soon. Devereaux Sinclair must have come across a particularly potent batch of widowsbane.

"We've got a small problem," Regina began, "or maybe a big problem depending on how you look at it…"

"What kind of problem?" David wondered.

Regina turned to meet David eye to eye, almost afraid to face Emma with what she was about to say.

"The antidote has to be administered in the same manner that the poison was – meaning he has to inhale it."

"What?" Emma couldn't believe what she was hearing. After all of this, they were still hitting a proverbial brick wall?

Regina shook her head. "I had no way of knowing that it would affect his breathing so quickly," she said. "I certainly didn't expect to come back after a few hours to find him breathing through a plastic tube."

"Inhaling the powder is the only way to give him the antidote?" Emma queried, not sure if she could take any more bad news today.

"Unfortunately, yes," Regina stated. "If he's not able to breathe on his own, we definitely have a problem."

"Okay," David spoke up, hoping to defuse the tension. "I think we need to get a professional opinion here. Whale said last night that they brought in the machine because Killian was having trouble breathing – not that he'd stopped breathing altogether. Let's get Whale down here and find out if he thinks there's a chance he could still breathe on his own – at least long enough to inhale that stuff."

"Go have him paged," Emma agreed. "We'll see what he has to say and if it isn't promising, I'm going to go to Plan B."

David knew precisely what she meant but chose not to comment as he made his way over to the nurses' station. There would be no arguing with her if it came down to Plan B.

"You have a Plan B?" Regina wondered.

"Yes," Emma stated. "I'll do what I have to do." Regina then realized where she was going with this.

"You're not planning to kiss him and poison yourself, are you?"

"I said I'll do whatever I have to do and I meant that. I'm not letting him die again, not like this."

"Are you out of your mind again? You have no idea how this poison would affect you."

"At least if I take on the poison, I can still breathe to inhale the antidote."

"It doesn't work like that. For all you know, you could end up not being able to breathe at all. Not to mention that you'd be receiving the poison in a different manner than he did. That would change how the antidote functions."

"So I'm supposed to do nothing? I'm sorry, Regina, I can't stand here and not try."

"It's too big a risk."

"So then Killian's expendable, is that what you mean?"

"That's not what I said and that's not what I meant…"

"Ladies!" David intervened before their argument got any more heated. "Dr. Whale is on his way. Why don't we all go take a walk so that everyone can calm down? We're all tired and stressed out but no one's doing anybody any good by shouting at each other!"

"I believe I heard my name mentioned," Whale said as he rounded the corner. "I could hear you halfway down the hallway. Now, is there a reason for all of this racket?"

"I've got the antidote for the poison, but we don't have a way to administer it at the moment," Regina explained.

"So you were able to make the antidote?" Whale asked.

"Yes, but as long as that machine is breathing for him, we have a problem. There's no way for him to inhale the powder," Regina stated.

"Is Killian able to breathe on his own at all?" Emma asked.

"Possibly," Whale replied, momentarily raising her hopes, "but there's no guarantee that he'd be able to take a deep enough breath to inhale anything heavier than air."

"Can we at least try?" Emma pleaded.

"You're his wife. With your consent, I can try removing the breathing tube. I'm not making any promises and I'm letting you know right now that if anything goes awry, my patient's welfare comes first."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Emma stated.

"Then if all of you could wait out here for a few minutes so I can run some tests, we'll soon have our answer as to whether this is going to work." Whale then motioned for one of the nurses at the desk to join him as he walked into Killian's room and once again drew the privacy curtain.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter Seven_

Emma again found herself pacing nervously, this time in front off the glass wall that separated her from the man she loved. The entire time that Whale and his team were working behind the curtain, neither David nor Regina spoke a word to her, each dealing with their own insecurity as to whether removing the ventilator would be successful. One thing was for certain – every one of them was simply hoping that the night's ordeal would soon be over.

Poised with anticipation, Emma spun at the distinct squeak of the privacy curtain being pulled back. Her heart was pounding as she stared through the window, sighing in silent relief that there was no longer a plastic tube protruding from between Killian's lips. Instead, an oxygen mask was positioned over his nose and mouth. Not waiting for an invitation to be extended by Whale, she immediately hurried to her husband's side. Behind her, David and Regina inched closer to the doorway but neither entered the room.

"As you can see, we were able to disconnect the ventilator and remove the breathing tube," Whale stated, wasting no time filling them in on Killian's present condition, "but it may only be temporary. You're probably only going to have one shot at this because his breaths are so shallow. The moment I feel that his condition is being compromised, I will put the tube right back in."

"Okay, so what do we need to do now?" Emma asked as she sat down at Killian's side, taking ahold of his hand and once again, squeezing it as tightly as she could to remind him that she was here while tenderly allowing the fingertips of her free hand to trace his cheekbone and jawline. His skin felt slightly warm to her touch as his fever was rising again.

Regina retrieved the antidote vial from her coat pocket then stepped into the room. Tapping a small amount of the bluish powder into the palm of her hand, she moved in closer to the bed, making sure she was directly in front of Killian.

"We'll need to remove the oxygen mask, then everyone take a step back," Regina instructed. "There is a chance that the antidote could be toxic to the rest of us."

Emma stood up reluctantly, placing Killian's hand atop his abdomen while Dr. Whale lifted the oxygen mask from his face and hung it from the safety rail alongside the bed where it could be quickly retrieved. Emma took two steps to her right, toward the doorway while Whale took a step backward maintaining his focus on the series of monitors before him. Pursing her lips, Regina blew the fine powder toward Killian's face, but as the pale blue particles settled against his face and neck, there was no indication that he'd been able to inhale anything, let alone that his chest and diaphragm had moved to take a breath at all.

"This isn't working," Emma said anxiously as Whale quickly replaced the oxygen mask when a shrill alarm sounded on one of the monitors.

"As I feared, his breathing is too shallow. That alarm means he isn't getting enough oxygen. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to put him back on the ventilator."

"Wait – not yet," Emma interrupted Whale as she suddenly realized that there might be a solution after all. "That oxygen mask – it's designed to deliver a constant flow of air, right?" She directed her question to Whale as he turned his back to them to begin preparations to replace the breathing tube. Emma's question caught the doctor somewhat unprepared.

"Yes," he replied, not quite sure why she would be making such an odd inquiry. "The mask isn't as effective as the ventilator, but it does serve that function." Emma hadn't actually been looking for Whale's opinion on the mask's function and effectiveness. She really just needed a basic technical description of how it worked – that it did deliver a steady flow of oxygen.

"Can the rate be adjusted? Enough to possibly force that powder into his system?"

"Potentially – yes," Whale replied, catching on to the idea she was suggesting. "I've never actually tried to use one in that way so I can't be one hundred percent certain that it will work, but I have to say, it could."

"Regina, give me the vial," Emma demanded, holding her outstretched palm open. Regina placed the tiny vial into Emma's hand with a warning.

"There isn't a whole lot left," Regina stated. "I don't know that there would be time to make another batch if this doesn't work."

"Then this had better work," Emma said as Whale again removed the mask from Killian's face while reaching for a switch on the panel on the wall behind the head of the bed.

"I just turned it off," Whale stated as he also muted the monitors, knowing another warning would sound in a few seconds. Turning the mask upside down, he placed it into Emma's hand so she could tap the remaining blue powder into it. It wasn't much, but hopefully, it was going to be enough. Whale then continued his instructions. "When I flip this switch, place the mask back over his nose and mouth as quickly as you can so as much of that antidote powder as possible stays inside."

Emma nodded as she positioned her right hand and the mask against Killian's right cheek where she could easily invert the plastic mask with a simple twist of her wrist.

"Ready?" Whale asked, his own finger poised on the ON/OFF switch and his other hand resting on the dial to increase the airflow.

"Ready," Emma replied, her eyes fixed on the switch. The moment Whale's finger toggled it back into the ON position her wrist instinctively flipped the mask over, fitting it back against his face while being careful not to spill any of the powder. She pressed the mask firmly in place and held it there while Whale gradually increased the flow of oxygen. As the particles inside the mask swirled around, the room became silent as everyone was holding their collective breath waiting to see if there would be a reaction this time. It was only when Killian suddenly inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled that anyone dared break the silence.

"Did it work?" Emma wondered, not yet ready to release her grip on the oxygen mask.

"We should know soon," Whale replied, securing the mask by placing its elastic strap around the back of Killian's head so that Emma could relax and sink back into the chair at his bedside.

And Whale had been correct. Within about a half an hour, Killian's fever had broken; his temperature down to under 100 degrees for the first time in hours. His respiration was back to normal as well and he was able to breathe unaided. All that remained was his drug induced slumber.

"How long do you think it will be before he wakes up?" Emma wondered.

"It will be a few hours yet," Whale replied as he was leaving the room, "but there shouldn't be any lingering side effects from the poison. I'm actually amazed that your idea worked, but it wouldn't be the first unconventional use of medical equipment I've encountered."

Relieved that they were finally out of the woods, Emma took a moment to give Killian a tender kiss on his forehead while her index finger played with a stray tendril of dark hair at his temple, no longer fearful of poisoning herself. At last, their stressful night was over – at least for her. He could now just sleep it off peacefully.

"Please try to get some rest now," David suggested as he gave his daughter a hug, ready to head home after an emotionally and physically exhausting evening that had dragged into morning. "Please?"

"Yes, I will," Emma replied. "I promise."

"Okay then. I will call you later and I'll check up on our prisoner this afternoon so you don't have to worry about her."

David brushed past Regina who had lingered in the doorway, dealing with her own fatigue and emotions while she tried to come up with something to say to Emma. Nothing really sounded appropriate or sincere enough though.

"I'm going to head home myself," Regina said, going with the simplest possible statement. "I'm sure you'd like to be alone."

"Regina, wait," Emma said, standing up and meeting Regina at the doorway. "I owe you an apology."

"No, you don't. I should have been honest with you from the start about the antidote."

"Look, I understand now why you weren't. I would have spent all night worrying about you finding that flower. My head wouldn't have been in the right place to deal with Devereaux and she might still be out there running amok in Storybrooke."

"Then apology accepted. I'm just glad this all worked out for the best." And with that, Regina disappeared in a poof of purple smoke.

A relieved smile crept across Emma's face as she flopped back down into the chair at Killian's bedside. Even as he slept, he seemed to smile back at her. Oh, to know what was going on inside his mind….

"Looks like it's just you and me now, my love." She tried to hold back a yawn, but failed miserably as she lowered the railing so she could snuggle her head against the edge of the mattress, allowing herself to fully relax. It might be eight in the morning, but as far as she was concerned, it was time for sleep at last.

* * *

This time, things were very different, Killian thought to himself as he once again awakened into the inky blackness of this room or void or whatever the hell this place was. This time, he knew immediately that he wasn't alone. He'd stirred to the sound of laughter, but it wasn't from some far away location. It was originating from directly behind him.

"Hi, Daddy," Maeve spoke up to gain his attention. Turning at the sound of her voice, it quickly became apparent that she had changed as well. Her appearance was slightly altered – her golden curls had a new luminescence and her sweet face had a more ethereal glow. The grin that had once been stretched across his face slowly faded into a veil of confusion.

"What the bloody hell is this?" he demanded, fearing that all of these changes he was envisioning might be some evil premonition.

"It's okay. You don't have to be afraid," the child replied. "It's just that you're going to wake up soon so I had to come say goodbye for now."

"Goodbye? What is this? Has all of this just been some disturbed version of a dream?"

"You can call it what you want – a dream, a hallucination, a vision. I just know that they sent me to give you something to hold on to – something to give you a reason to fight off the poison because Mommy still needs you."

Hearing her refer to Emma as Mommy overwhelmed him with emotion. How could a dream affect him so deeply? Maybe, just maybe part of this was real…

"Who sent you?" he wondered.

"I don't know," she replied while skipping happily in place. "They just knew that you needed me, so I got to come play for a while." Her face seemed to glow even brighter with the luminous smile that she wore as she ran forward and threw her arms around him. Dropping to one knee so he could be at her level, Killian returned the embrace, not really wanting to let go, but she eventually wriggled herself free. "We both have to go now, but don't worry - you're going to see me again. I am your daughter after all. Please give Mommy a big hug and kiss for me!"

She started to walk backward and her silhouette slowly faded into the blackness as she shouted one last "I love you, Daddy."

Tears welled in his eyes as he replied with a whisper. "I love you too, Maeve."

But now everything was closing in on him - the blackness enveloping him from every side as if it were trying to suffocate him. Raising his left arm to instinctively shield his face, he found the familiar shiny glint of steel had returned.

And as his dreamscape surroundings faded to nothingness, he closed his eyes, allowing his other senses to take over. He gradually became aware of sounds – something beeping; voices off in the distance. There was the pungent smell of disinfectant mixed with a trace of what might have been coffee? Then he felt the pain when he tried to swallow – his throat dry, raw and extremely irritated. There were nagging spots on his chest and on his hand - which was both itching and feeling pinched at the same time. Definitely no longer in that dream world.

He allowed his eyes to open very slowly, letting them adjust to the bright florescent light directly above him. Lifting his bandaged hand, he brought it in front of his face so he could see the bloodstained gauze taped over the spot where the IV needle had once been and the new one secured to the inside of his wrist. One mystery explained, he thought, wishing he had a way to scratch the spot where the tape was irritating his skin. Instead, he used his fingertips to inspect the gauze bandage taped to his upper chest – definitely a spot that was sore to the touch, but with no obvious reason for that one, he'd have to ask about it later.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes, allowing more of his surroundings to come into focus, now quite certain of where he was. The stark alabaster walls and the one made of glass that allowed the nurses to see into the room from their desk were now familiar, comforting sights.

But the most welcome sight was just to his right – his beautiful wife sitting askew in the chair at his side with her head resting seemingly uncomfortably against the mattress. Hours ago, he wasn't certain he'd ever see her face again – a feeling he never wanted to relive. She appeared to be content with her eyes closed and a faint crooked smile on her lips making him almost afraid to disturb her, but something told him that she wasn't really asleep.

"What, no handcuffs this time, Swan?" he asked out loud as he brushed his knuckles against the curve of her cheekbone. Emma tried hard to hold back a snicker at the memory of the last time he'd awakened in this hospital. In truth, she was just so relieved to hear his voice.

"I've got a pair in my jacket pocket if you think we need them," she replied with a smirk, opening her eyes to see his baby blues smiling right back at her. "Good morning – well, afternoon I guess. How are you feeling?"

"A bit like a drunken sailor, but I'm sure that's from whatever Whale put in me. That and my throat feels like I swallowed a sea urchin."

"That would probably be from the tube they had to put down your throat to help you breathe."

"The what…?" His hand unconsciously went to his neck as he stared at her with a mixture of disbelief and amazement.

"For a few hours last night, Whale had to bring in a machine to keep you breathing. Part of it involved a plastic tube placed down your…well, let's just say it was a rather difficult thing to see."

"Bloody hell…," he sighed. "Quite glad I don't have any memories of that."

"Were you aware of anything that was happening?" she wondered.

"Apparently not - since I woke up to bandaged wounds that I don't remember getting," He gingerly touched the gauze patch on his chest, remembering that it had hurt the last time he'd disturbed it.

"We all had a rough night, I guess. Regina got the antidote made and Devereaux Sinclair is locked up safely in the holding cell where she can't hurt anyone. She won't be bothering our family again anytime soon."

"About that – I suppose I should apologize. When I saw that someone had broken into the Sheriff's station, I should have called you and waited for you to get there. But then I saw that it was Devereaux and I got a bit too carried away trying to be the hero."

"And I should apologize for losing track of time," she responded. "Yes, you should have waited for me, but if I hadn't gotten so caught up in conversation with Regina, I would have been there already. We'll call it a draw this time. I'm just happy that the current crisis is over."

"Aye. It's not like we get much time between those."

"Please, don't remind me. Let's just enjoy the peace and quiet."

"Any idea as to whether we'll get to enjoy that peace and quiet from our own home or will I be spending more time here on my back in this hospital bed?"

"You'll have to suffer a bit longer," Emma laughed. "Whale said you can go home tomorrow once all of the sedatives are out of your system."

"And I don't suppose I'll be getting my hook back before then either?" he wondered.

"Not likely."

"Then I suppose I'll just have to bore you with tales of the crazy dream I had while I was unconscious."

Emma stood up and shifted over to the side of the bed, snuggling up close to Killian and resting her head on his shoulder while he wrapped his arm tightly around hers.

"I want to hear every detail," she said contently. "We've got all night."

* * *

Staring upward at the concrete block walls and the bare ceiling of her jail cell, Devereaux lay there on the lumpy cot, replaying her run in with Hook's wife. She hadn't expected magic, a judgement error on her part. She must have had a dozen different revenge scenarios swirling around in her head, but as long as she was locked in here, she couldn't get to the sheriff. Had this been a standard brig, she would have picked the lock by now, but the magic seal on the lock made that impossible and she certainly didn't have a hacksaw available. She could only take delight in knowing that she'd taken away something precious from Sheriff Emma after she'd taken the looking glass away from her.

She knew she had been left alone in the holding cell for hours, even though she couldn't see the clock from her angle. She could only see the shadows formed as the sun shone through the broken front door and windows and assumed that it was early afternoon when someone finally showed up. This time, it wasn't the sheriff, but a rather handsome man in his mid-thirties. She recognized him as he stepped around the door to toss a white paper bag through the bars of her cell.

"Wouldn't want you thinking we were barbarians around here. Although I'd personally rather let you starve," David stated to his prisoner.

"Well, if it isn't the Prince? Still royalty in this land?" Devereaux sneered, ignoring the bag of food he'd thrown to her.

"You can call me Sheriff here," David replied.

"Two sheriffs? How droll…"

"Make yourself comfortable, pirate. You're going to be our visitor for a while."

"So what happened to Sheriff Emma?" Devereaux asked, prying for information about Hook indirectly. "Did she have other engagements or does she just work the night shift?"

"She's just fine," David told her, recognizing that she was fishing for answers about Killian. "Luckily for you, you're only going to be facing attempted murder charges. Regina found an antidote for your poison."

"What?!" Devereaux exclaimed. "That's not possible!"

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Sinclair. Hook is going to be fine and you've lost any leverage you think you had."

"You don't understand – I need to get that mirror back. You have no idea how important it is!"

"Then I guess you shouldn't have dropped it," David stated, not really caring about how important the object might have been to her after what she'd put his family through. She'd been willing to commit cold blooded murder over a mirror which left him with no respect for her. "It'll get a little noisy in here later when the dwarves come by to repair the door, but for now, enjoy the accommodations."

"Yes – such hospitality," she growled, shoving the paper bag onto the floor where a wrapped sandwich and a plastic bottle of water tumbled out. Who cared about food when your day had just been ruined? She'd been upstaged by the Evil Queen? Really?

David ignored her tantrum and went about his own business of trying to get the station back to normal. Aside from the obvious fact that the front door was laying in the middle of the floor, Devereaux had made a mess of Emma's office. Drawers had been emptied; file cabinets upended. Books and some of Emma's personal belongings had been pulled from the shelves and thrown all over the floor. Emma had had a difficult enough night so he didn't want her to have to return to this.

As he stooped to pick up the shattered lamp that once sat atop the bookshelf, he spied the cell phone Killian had dropped the night before, still resting screen side down in the hallway. When he retrieved it, he found the glass screen completely shattered, but he was still able to turn it on and realized that it was Killian's and there hadn't been any outgoing calls the night before. It suddenly dawned on him now that Emma's story about the mirror having been instrumental in helping her find him after he'd been poisoned had really been true because Killian certainly hadn't attempted to call for help. David shook his head and smiled as he slid the damaged phone into his pocket, then continued down the hall to take the destroyed lamp to the dumpster out back. Just like this family to find a way to find each other.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter Eight_

She didn't know when she had finally given in to sleep, but when Devereaux awoke in the holding cell, it was evening. It had been approximately an hour after the prince left that the dwarves had arrived to repair the station's door and those repairs had taken them about ninety minutes. By her estimation, she must have fallen asleep around four or five in the afternoon, but it was definitely evening now. Except for a few emergency lights, the station was dark and she was left in solitary again.

Thirsty, she searched for the bottle of water that had spilled out of the paper bag when she'd angrily shoved it to the floor earlier. She had to get down on her hands and knees to retrieve it from under the cot and as she did, she became very aware that she was being watched. Had the prince–slash-sheriff returned to insult her some more or would she find herself face to face with Sheriff Emma again? Twisting the cap from the bottle, she lifted her head to see a somewhat familiar face, although she couldn't quite determine who it was until he opened his mouth to speak.

"Hello, Captain Sinclair," a deep voice spoke to her as a man stepped out of the shadows and approached the holding cell. "We have a matter of some unfinished business to attend to."

"You look different in this world," Devereaux stated as she recognized his identity. "Slightly less reptilian than the Rumplestiltskin I met in the Enchanted Forest."

"You can call me Mr. Gold here, but our deal still stands and you haven't kept up your end of the bargain."

"Mister Gold?" Devereaux sneered. "Love the irony. At least it makes more sense to me than Hook calling you a crocodile. I've always thought that snake was just a much more fitting adjective."

"You can call me whatever you want, but it still doesn't change the fact that you failed to deliver the looking glass you promised."

"It's not my fault that the Queen's curse messed with the timeline. It took me decades to track down the Jolly Roger and when I did, it was in a land I couldn't get to. Do you know how long it took me to find a magic bean I could steal to get here?"

"And did you find what you were looking for?"

"No - but not for lack of trying. I had the mirror and the last place I saw the handle was in Hook's safe in his quarters on the Jolly Roger. I just couldn't get the safe opened. It uses something as its key that I've never encountered before."

"What do you mean you had the mirror? You lost it?"

"I dropped it when Hook surprised me on his ship. Your sheriff has it now and since she certainly has magic, I'm quite sure that she's figured out that it's a magical object."

"So let me get this straight – you let Emma get the looking glass and you don't even know if Hook actually had the handle to it in his safe. From what I can see, I don't think there's a reason for me to keep you around anymore."

Devereaux found herself actually fearing for her life for the first time in a very long time. When she'd stolen the mirror from one of the treasure chests aboard a king's flagship, she hadn't known that the Dark One, Rumplestiltskin, had been vying for the same item. It wasn't in her possession for half a day before he'd sought her out – offering to make a deal with her if she could procure the handle. Being young, arrogant and ignorant, she'd agreed, eagerly taking him up on his promise of a potion that would maintain her youth forever.

"I can still get it back. I'm not afraid of your sheriff and I'm certainly not afraid of Hook."

"Considering that you're on that side of those bars, it would appear that you've already underestimated Emma Swan one time too many and I certainly don't think that you're in any position to renegotiate our contract. You failed to get the object you promised – even with specific instructions about what crate it would be in. Hook got the best of you then and I was benevolent enough to grant you more time, but now your time's up, dearie."

In a defiant stance, Devereaux stepped directly up to the bars of the holding cell and stared straight into Gold's eyes.

"You can kill me – rip my heart out, but you don't know what the compact or the handle look like. You'll never find both without my help."

"What you don't understand, Captain, is that your services are no longer needed. I wanted the looking glass to open a portal for me but I have no need for it anymore. Yes, I could rip your heart out and crush it, but since you no longer have anything of value to trade, I think it's more fitting if I just cancel our contract and reverse the potion that has kept your face so pretty for all of these years."

A horrified look crossed Devereaux's face as she realized what he meant. He wasn't going to give her the dignity of a quick death. Hers would be slow and agonizing.

"You can't do this! I've been under the spell of your potion for so long, if you undo it, I'll be an old woman…I'll be more than a century old…"

"I guess we'll see if you age gracefully then. But I'm not counting on it."

Devereaux shuddered as she felt a chill come over her, the life force draining from her body as a grey streak appeared at her temple, standing out in stark contrast to her ebony locks. Suddenly, the cocky, headstrong pirate was gone as she cried out in terror.

* * *

Settling onto their vintage burgundy sofa under orders from Emma, Killian found her worry for his welfare both mildly amusing and somewhat overbearing. They hadn't been back home for thirty seconds when she'd sent him to the couch. Physically, he was perfectly fine. All traces of the widowsbane poison and all remnants of the sedatives were gone from his system, a fact that even Whale had confirmed before releasing him, but to some extent, Emma was still treating him as an invalid. At least he had gotten his hook back on the drive home – not that she'd been given a choice in that matter when it had already been laying on the seat of the car as he'd opened the door. He felt completely like himself again, but she was being a tad obsessive.

"Go sit down and I'll find us some breakfast," she'd ordered as the stepped through the front door and she pushed him toward the sofa.

"I'm perfectly capable of getting my own breakfast," he'd replied, but she disagreed and he knew it was an argument he wasn't going to win.

"Just sit. You should probably take it easy for a day or two."

"In case you've forgotten, I've just spent the better part of the last two days sleeping. I would say I've done enough taking it easy for the foreseeable future."

"Don't argue with me," she shouted from the kitchen. "I'll chain you to the sofa if I have to."

"Yes, I suppose you would," he muttered quietly, wanting to express his displeasure out loud, but not really wanting her to hear what he'd said.

"What was that?" she asked, not having heard exactly what he said, but correctly assuming that it had been some sort of snarky, sarcastic commentary. Not really wanting an argument, Killian was actually quite relieved when her cell phone rang. Maybe after a distraction, she'd stop coddling him.

Juggling a frying pan in one hand and a carton of eggs in the other, she found her phone on the kitchen countertop and had to use the knuckle on her pinky finger to answer the call, seeing that it was from her father.

"Hang on," she said to David as she fumbled to find the speaker button so that she didn't have to hold it to her ear. She set the eggs down next to the stove and turned on the phone's hands free speaker. "Okay – got it on speaker. What's up?"

"Emma, I know that you and Hook just got home from the hospital a little bit ago, but I need you to come down to the station immediately."

"Okay," Emma replied, concerned with the urgency in David's voice. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

"I actually need both of you here. Is he feeling up to it?"

"Aye," Killian replied from the kitchen doorway, ignoring Emma's insistence to stay on the couch. "I'm fine. We'll be there in a few minutes."

As she disconnected the call, Emma glared at him, still clutching the handle of the frying pan.

"Unless you're planning to hit me with that, Swan, I suggest you put it down so that we can get going." She just shook her head as he grinned back at her. There was just no arguing with that smart ass smirk.

* * *

Mere minutes later, Emma practically burst through the newly repaired station door, unsure of what might be so pressing that David insisted they both needed to be at the station so quickly. His sense of urgency with the call had been reminiscent of her own call for help nearly thirty six hours earlier – short on details but heavy on mystery and emotion. Killian followed Emma through the open door, somewhat more cautiously since his last visit to this building had put him in the hospital. He wasn't taking any unnecessary risk this morning.

David was waiting just inside the door, anticipating their arrival and the expression on his face spoke volumes. He was clearly confused, but maybe a bit more on the dumbfounded side.

"Emma, we've got a problem," David said the moment she'd opened the door.

"Nothing new there," she replied. Problems were usually the minor speed bumps in her life. Question was, would this one lead to a full blown crisis? "What kind of problem?"

"Take a look for yourself," David stated, directing her toward the holding cell. "How do you explain that?"

With a somewhat skeptical glance, she moved closer to the holding cell, spotting exactly what David had been so worried about – lying in the middle of the concrete floor of the cell was a body.

It was clearly a woman's body – slumped over on her knees with her face buried in her hands, but while she was clad in the same black denim jeans and hooded sweatshirt that Devereaux Sinclair had been dressed in at the time Emma had jailed her, this woman couldn't have been Devereaux. This woman had long, brittle grey hair. Had their pirate prisoner somehow switched places with this poor woman whose pose suggested that she had been frightened to death?

"What the hell?" Emma questioned her own sanity for a moment. "I sealed the lock. There was no way that Devereaux could have escaped. How did she manage to change places with this woman?"

"The lock is still sealed," David reminded her. "I couldn't open the cell to check on her when I got here. This isn't making any sense."

"It does if that is actually Devereaux Sinclair," Killian stated as he stared between the bars at the figure on the floor, sensing something familiar about the woman's corpse.

Emma was now mirroring David's dumbfounded expression.

"How could that be Devereaux?" Emma wondered. "We've all seen her. She's only in her thirties at most. That woman in there has to be at least a hundred years old."

"And you're saying that to a three hundred year old pirate," Killian said. "Devereaux wasn't in Neverland for long, but there are other ways out there for someone to cling to eternal youth. There's one thing I know for sure - Captain Devereaux Sinclair has a tattoo on her right forearm of a skull with a dagger piercing it. I highly doubt Devereaux could have escaped and found someone with the same tattoo."

"I guess we need to check for a tattoo then," Emma said as she released the seal on the cell's lock then yanked the heavy barred door open. Kneeling beside the body, it was clear that she hadn't been dead long. Rigor hadn't yet set in so she was able to reposition the dead woman's arm, grimacing as she pushed the sweatshirt sleeve up to reveal a very faded image of a skull pierced by a dagger on the old woman's forearm. "It's her…"

"How does someone age more than half a century in less than twenty four hours?" David wondered.

"I'm sure magic was involved," Emma said as she stood up and stepped out of the cell. "But this wasn't my doing."

"Regina maybe?" David wondered.

"I don't think so," Emma replied. "Regina didn't have a beef with Devereaux. As far as I know, Killian and myself were the only ones here with any type of grudge against her, but I know neither of us left the hospital last night."

"Certainly narrows the suspect pool," David said.

"Call me a bit biased, but this has a crocodile written all over it. Just throwing out a theory that maybe that magical mirror thing and Devereaux's sudden aging might be connected to a Rumplestiltskin deal?"

"You could be right, but at the moment, there isn't enough evidence to support it," Emma stated. "I'm not going down that road until we have a lot more information. For now, we need to come up with an explanation as to how a prisoner died in our custody and find a safe place to stash that looking glass. That thing has caused enough mayhem and heartache for now."

Her focus was immediately drawn to Killian. He'd certainly suffered the most by Devereaux's actions so it was difficult for either of them to harbor any guilt in knowing that Sinclair was dead. But it also certainly didn't mean that Devereaux's death wasn't bothering her. Devereaux had been a loose end for someone who had caused her to die a seemingly horrible death – rapidly aging in the span of only a few hours. In another way though, it was poetic justice. Devereaux had been willing to condemn Killian to a slow, painful death by poison, never knowing that a similar fate awaited her.

And maybe that was all that Emma needed to understand.

What goes around comes around.

"Guess karma's a bitch, wasn't it?" Emma whispered to Devereaux's body as she stepped out of the cell. She slid her arm around Killian's waist as she thought about what to do next with the body and the reports she was going to have to complete. All she knew was that she had what was important.


End file.
